The Hurricane and the Butterfly
by A. X. Zanier
Summary: This is what happens when the hurricane takes notice of the butterfly that created it.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: So, this is the story I worked on and won NaNo with this year. No, it (or it's sequel, which was also used for NaNo as I didn't think this one would be long enough. Silly me.) is not complete. However, I'm hoping posting will be the impetus to do so. The story and its sequel have been in my poor brain for years and deserve to be let out to play. Hope you like it.

Author: A. X. Zanier

Title: The Hurricane and the Butterfly

Rating: R

Fandom: The Invisible Man

Pairing: Darien/Alyx Silver, Bobby/Claire

Timeline: Post Always Arc

Spoilers: Probably, does it really matter after all these years?

Disclaimer: a) The characters and basic story ideas of_ The Invisible Man_ are the property of others including, but not limited to Matt Greenberg, Studios USA, Stu Segall Productions and NBC Universal. Any additional characters or story ideas are mine. I make no money from this intellectual exercise. b) This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any opinions or views found herein do not necessarily reflect those of the author and are used for story-telling purposes only.

* * *

The Hurricane and the Butterfly

* * *

_The National Geographic, famed for its ability to attract hormonal teenaged boys to its pictorials of aboriginal tribeswomen, also wrote something of a bit more value, "It is said that a butterfly can, with a flap of its wings, change the world... that the ripple it sends out can spawn a hurricane."_

_This is what happens when the hurricane takes notice of the butterfly that created it._

_

* * *

  
_

Bobby handed the jump drive to the Official, who looked exhausted at this late hour. Obviously, whatever was in those encrypted files had to be of the utmost importance for the bossman to still be at the office at eleven p.m. The Official usually didn't hang around for the schlep work.

Darien yawned and scratched the back of his head, catching sight of the tattoo on his wrist. Luckily, it had only taken three segments of Quicksilver and the newest version of Alyx's Destiny program to get in. It'd been hairy in a couple of spots, but overall everything had gone like clockwork.

"Where's Drake?" Hobbes questioned, before Darien got a chance to.

"With Miss Silver," he answered, sounding as tired as he looked. "There was an incident earlier today."

That got Darien's attention the way few other things could.

"The kid? Is she okay?" Hobbes blurted out, instant concern in his voice.

"Mostly," the Official answered. "The Keeper will fill you in on what she knows."

As if she'd been waiting for her cue, Claire opened the solid wooden door and entered the room, reading the file in her hand. "Sir, I need--"

"Doctor," the Official interrupted, causing Claire to lift her head and see that there were others in the room.

"Oh, you're back. Good. Sir, I'll--"

"Yes, fill in Fawkes, then come back," he told her, plainly not wanting whatever they had been about to discuss to be discussed in front of the two agents.

She nodded, closed the file, and set it on his desk. "Darien, come with me, please."

"Claire?" Bobby practically whined, as if afraid of being left out.

"You too, Bobby."

The men trailed after her, ending up downstairs in the Keep. She paced about for a minute before turning to face the two men who looked at each other in confusion.

"Alyx was attacked today."

"Oh crap," Darien mumbled, feeling his legs go weak in reaction. "How... how bad?" he finally managed to ask.

"Relax, Darien, she'll be fine. A concussion, assorted bruises, broken wrist, sprained ankle, and possible ligament damage to her knee. We'll know more once the swelling goes down." She listed off the various injuries in a straightforward tone, keeping her emotions out of it, for which Darien was thankful as the list of injuries did little to reassure him that Alyx would be _fine_.

"Shit, how did this happen?" Bobby questioned, when Darien failed utterly to find his voice.

Claire shook her head. "I've no idea at this point. Alyx has no memory of it right now, mostly due to the blow to her head, and we've yet to receive copies of the initial police reports. All we know is that roughly a dozen men attacked her and that some arrests were made. The details are beyond sketchy at this point, I'm afraid."

Bobby swore, while Darien staggered, fear and anguish settling into his gut like lead weights. _How could this have happened? _his useless thought echoing Bobby's vocalized question of mere moments before. And why Alyx? Yeah, she'd made enemies over the years, but there hadn't been a hint of anything worrisome for months now. Even Changeling had gone to ground for the time being, hiding from their every effort at finding them. If this had been them, had been Changeling, they wouldn't have attacked, they'd have grabbed and ran.

"I need to get home," he mumbled, the sudden need to be there, be with Alyx, fix her, fix _this_ suddenly stronger than anything else, even breathing, as he gasped, his lungs starved of air and demanding their needs be seen to right now, leaving him momentarily light-headed.

"In a moment, Darien. First, I need to go over some things with you. She'll need some special care for a few days," Claire explained with a gentle hand on his arm.

"Special care?" Bobby squeaked. "Thought you said she was okay?"

Claire sighed heavily. "The ER doctor cleared her to go home on my say so. That said, some of her injuries are... serious and would have a kept a normal patient in the hospital overnight at the very least, but with the way she heals..." Claire shrugged. "Not like we could allow her to stay at Cabrillo no matter how injured; too risky."

Bobby nodded in reluctant agreement. "Understood, but there's always Leavitt."

"Unnecessary, at this point, though I do have some concerns." She turned to Darien. "Can you do this?"

Darien swallowed the lump in his throat and nodded. "What does she need?"

* * *

Darien wasn't all that surprised at the bookend agents outside her apartment door, or the very visible weaponry. No matter how Claire had tried to downplay Alyx's injuries, the Official clearly took this attack _very_ seriously. Both men nodded to him, and even slid the door open so he could enter. Drake paced the apartment with his cell phone to his ear. "... no, assigned to _her_. The Official is taking no chances."

Darien tossed his keys, badge, and wallet on the small table right beside the door, stripped off his jacket, hanging it next to Alyx's red suede one. "Babysitters?" he asked once Drake had snapped the phone shut.

"A precaution only," Drake answered sounding as exhausted as he looked. He tipped his head towards the bed. "You've been briefed?"

"Yeah," Darien answered, finally glancing over at the bed. Drake had moved the screens, so Darien could see Alyx, surrounded by pillows on the bed. A deep purple bruise on her left cheek had been bisected by a thin cut, as if the sharp point of a knife had been dragged across her skin. She was pale under the tan, but he'd seen worse. Walking over to the bed, he gently brushed a stray curl off her forehead. She shifted and sighed softly, aware of his presence even though surely in the throes of drug-induced unconsciousness.

Darien turned to Drake. "Can you stay a few? I want to grab a shower."

"Sure."

Instead of moving off to the nearby bathroom, Darien just stood there, staring forlornly at Alyx, wishing he'd been able to prevent this from happening. These days they spent more time apart than together, between her being co-opted by other agencies and her ability to work with practically anyone with ease, she rarely partnered with he and Hobbes anymore. And Darien found he missed that. But with the similarity in their talents, having two invisible agents on a single mission, unless hellishly complicated, had become decidedly unnecessary. Besides, her other talents allowed for a far wider range of missions than Darien's own, admittedly, limited skills.

While he knew she disliked him going all Alpha male on her, there were times like these when that's exactly what he wanted... even needed to do. That was his role, to protect her, to keep her from harm no matter how equal a partner she was in this relationship. Hell, there were days he felt like the less equal one, but that didn't stop his natural instincts from kicking in. She lay there battered and broken, the damage far more than skin deep based on what little info Claire had passed on to him. The ER doc had patched Alyx up and then released her into her doctor's care, though given the number of visible injuries Darien couldn't help but wonder if that had been a wise decision. He resisted the sudden need to scoop her up in his arms and hold her close, as it would probably just piss her off, and cause her additional pain she did not need.

But given he was torn between the need to hold her and beating the living crap out of those who had hurt her, the holding on seemed to be the lesser of the two evils. Once he'd calmed down anyway. She had no interest in dealing with his violent urges, not after the day she'd had. So instead, he just stood there, unable to follow any specific impulse.

Drake broke him out of his contemplative reverie. "Darien, she'll be okay."

Darien turned to look at the former CIA hacker who had replaced Eberts as the Official's right hand man months ago. "You don't know that anymore than I do," he stated softly, as if afraid she'd overhear.

Drake nodded solemnly. "True, but we'll do everything we can to protect her."

Darien snorted, the amusement bitter. "Like we've done so well in the past." His statement for all the sarcasm still held the truth. They'd failed any number of times at keeping Alyx safe in the past and he knew damn well that if whoever this current enemy was, for he was certain this was no random happenstance, would attempt to finish what had been begun that afternoon. This... this attack was merely the first move in some more elaborate game, though whether damage or true destruction was the ultimate goal remained unknown. Once the orchestrator had been identified, they'd know better. The motives of Changeling were far different than those of, say Chrysalis, though both would like to get their grubby paws on her. Chrysalis was at least off licking their wounds after their last try at Alyx. She, at this point anyway, remained a bit more than they could handle.

"What else can we do?"

Darien sighed. "I wish I knew." He turned away from Alyx to meet Drake's concerned countenance. "Give me fifteen and you can get out of here."

Drake smiled wanly. "Out of here and back to the office. The Official is seriously worried."

"And wants you to decrypt those files, I'm sure," Darien reminded with a wry grin.

"Oh crap," Drake muttered, "I completely forgot about that assignment. Everything went okay?"

Darien suddenly realized that Drake had really and truly been worried about Alyx. Had dropped everything he'd been doing to make certain she was as secure as possible given the situation, going above and beyond his usual range of duties. Babysitting injured agents was not part of his normal job description. "Thanks, Drake."

"You're welcome. Now hurry up, you've reminded me that I have several hours of work to do before I can grab a few hours of sleep."

Darien didn't wait to be shooed off and headed straight for the shower. Less than twenty minutes later he was back, hair damp, wearing a stylish pair of pajama pants and wifebeater that he commonly slept in, or at least walked about in when company was present.

Drake was sipping coffee from one of Alyx's many anyone-was-free-to-use travel mugs, clearly having taken the time to abuse her impressive coffee-maker at some point in the evening.

"The Keeper has requested that I remind you about the hourly wake-up checks..."

Darien nodded. "Got my marching orders memorized."

"And to be in no later than--"

"Nine a.m.," Darien finished. "We'll be there."

"Good. Next shift is at oh-six-hundred, Langley and Carson. If you have any problems-"

Darien cut him off. "This isn't our first bung-up, you know."

Drake managed a chuckle. "Very true. I'll see you at the office tomorrow. The Official has graciously ordered me to go home and get some sleep. The files will apparently wait until I'm more conscious."

"Smart man, our boss."

"Sometimes more than others," Drake muttered just loud enough for Darien to hear and, though tempted to rise to the bait, let it slide this time. He had the feeling that the bossman was allowing that oh-so-important job he and Hobbes had just completed to slide because of what had happened to Alyx. That did not bode well for it being just random chance.

Darien saw Drake out the door, one of the agents escorting him to his car as a precaution. Once the apartment door had shut -- he didn't bother to lock it as anything that would take out their guards would surely wake the two of them up, besides if he needed help for some reason he wanted them to be able to get in without have to break down Alyx's door -- Darien's focus swung back to the injured woman on the bed, though in truth said attention had never wandered very far away. It took a hell of a lot to catch her off-guard, so to see her so badly damaged made him realize just how vulnerable they _all_ were. A solid whack to the head, like the one she had apparently received, had been still more than enough to put her down, proving that although she sometimes didn't appear to be, she was indeed mortal. Just like the rest of them.

Alyx lay curled on her right side, right arm with the lovely half cast flung up on the pillow next to her head, and a body pillow stuffed to either side of her body. The one along her front supported her left leg, keeping pressure off her knee and ankle. The other stuffed behind her back to prevent her from rolling onto her left side. Normally she was a sprawling side sleeper, sometimes twisting about so much she'd lie partially on her stomach. Great for spooning and cuddling, but not for side injuries, like the one along her left ribs. In her drugged slumber, she'd want to flip over, putting far too much pressure on the bruised ribs. Luckily, the ER nurse -- the doc had moved on to a new patients thanks to a multi-car wreck in the middle of rush hour -- had said the damage appeared to be minimal even though the bruising looked horrible already. Claire had concurred after a quick visual inspection of the X-rays and Alyx.

He gently slipped in behind her, flipping on the light mounted in the headboard. Carefully, following Claire's instructions to the letter, he visually inspected all the injuries within reach. Alyx woke up as he brushed fingers over the impressive goose-egg he discovered on the back of her skull. Little wonder she'd gone down without a fight given the size of it. Darien could only imagine what she'd been hit with. Maybe a baseball bat, or two-by-four. Something good and solid that's for sure.

She sucked in a long breath and blew it out slowly with a grumbled, "Ow."

"Sorry, baby, just following orders," Darien whispered near her ear, figuring much like with a good hangover, loud sounds, including his lovely voice, would not go over well.

She proved herself to be far more awake and in good spirits than he expected.

"Why, Quentin, going for the personal touch are you?"

Darien snorted in amusement. "Quentin's still afraid of you, girl." Probably true, at the very least the man had a healthy respect for her skills... all of them.

A faint smile crossed her lips and she shifted slightly to look up at him, her eyes dull with pain and medication. "I'm sorry, D. I screwed up and..."

"Hush," he ordered placing a gentle finger on the swollen and split lip. "Getting ambushed generally isn't one's fault," he told her in no uncertain terms, making every effort to project his feelings on the matter so that she'd hopefully believe him without a long, drawn out argument that she could ill afford the energy expenditure in her current state.

"I know," she mumbled even as tears threatened to spill down her cheeks. "Do you need me to go through the routine?'

"Even I can tell you didn't get whacked _that_ hard, but we'll do the every hour thing just in case."

She sighed heavily. "Dope me up with enough drugs to put down a Clydesdale then 'spect me to wake up regular-like. Buncha oxymorons."

By the way she slurred her words, he could tell she wasn't kidding on the level of pain meds Claire had her on. At least Alyx was permitted painkillers even with a head injury, Darien never was, and only partially due to the gland. Meds, even something as simple as Tylenol or ibuprofen could mask a more serious underlying problem and take a simple bump on the head and morph it into something far more dangerous... like a coma. Alyx though, with her weird-ass metabolism could do things that would kill others, so she got pain meds for her injuries to go with the hourly head checks. Body checks in this case. "Need to give you my unprofessional once-over," he informed her as he ran his fingers across the prominent bruise on her cheek.

"If you must," she grouched, knowing as well as he that it would hurt no matter how gently he checked her over.

He had her wiggle her fingers and toes as appropriate, left her knee strictly alone as Claire had told him, then followed the Keeper's very specific instructions when it came to Alyx's side. Lifting her shirt, he made note of how large the bruise was, the color (deep purple in the center and red about the edges) and shape. Then he palpitated the area, ignoring her sucked in breaths and poorly hidden groans of pain. He knew this had to hurt, but Claire had insisted, warning him to look for hardness or heat in the area. Other warning signs she given him were cold and clammy skin, none of which he found at the moment. He contained the sigh of relief he felt and tugged her shirt back into place.

"So, did I pass?" she asked completely failing to hide the pain in her voice.

"Yes, sweet thing, you did just fine, and you'd better stay that way," he insisted, turning her head so he could tenderly kiss her on the lips. "Now go back to sleep. I'll wake you in an hour just to do this all over again."

"Oh goody," she groused as he shifted to set the alarm clock they specifically used in situations like this. He double checked to make certain he'd set it correctly, then switched off the light and snuggled down next to her, the pillow still stuffed between them, with his body acting as a secondary support system. After getting a good look at her side he could imagine how painful it would be for her to unintentionally roll over. The act itself might be enough to wake her, should she unconsciously try it, but better to make certain it wouldn't happen. He curved his arms about her, and in some small way fulfilled that overweening need to protect her.

She grumbled and hissed in discomfort until they had both settled then drifted off without a bit of fuss, the painkillers allowing her the sleep she needed to really heal. Darien, tired as he felt, couldn't relax, not yet anyway. Trying to hold her tighter without actually holding her tighter, he buried his face in her hair and shook. Thankful that she had survived and yet fearful that he still might lose her. Life, even hers, was just so fragile and things could change in an instant. One moment he'd had a brother, whom he had been finally getting to know and the next a bullet-riddled swiftly-cooling body in his arms. He didn't want to lose another important person in his life and he'd come close enough so many times already. He understood the realities of their lives, that either one of them could buy a trip to those Pearly Gates at any moment of any day, but couldn't dwell on it, had to assume (no matter how big an ass it potentially made him) that they would be together for a long time to come. Then something like the events of today would kick him upside the head as a reminder: life is short.

Considering he could never get enough time with her, the reminder had an even bigger impact.

_One thing at a time,_ he reminded himself. Get through today _then_ deal with tomorrow and whatever it might bring. _Good advice,_ he mentally muttered as he finally managed to settle enough to drift off into slumber.


	2. Chapter 2

... _arms held down so painfully tight that no amount of struggling will move them... head aching, a pounding throb across my skull in time to the beat of my heart... raucous laughter... whispered endearments that cause only fear and anger... the feel of cold, rough flooring under my back... a moment of clarity allowing but a single murderous thought..._

Darien jerked awake with a gasp, staring blindly at the wooden canopy of the bed, heart racing, and cold sweat coating his skin. The dream, using that term loosely as it had been nothing more than blurred flashes, leaving echoes of pain and a deeply terrifying anger surging through his veins. Beside him, Alyx muttered something in her sleep and he suspected that the dream had been hers. Not the first time that had happened, but still weird. Wiping a hand across his face, he shifted slightly and looked at the clock just as the alarm started up with its mutant cricket chirp. With a grunt, he slapped it off and flipped the light on. That action did little to chase away the vivid imagery lingering in his mind and he suspected that the images dredged up had been from Alyx's attack... the one that Claire said she had no memory of. If true, then it was probably a good thing given the taste he'd just experienced. Though the fact that she'd shared said memories meant it wouldn't stay buried for long. And when that dam broke... Well, it wouldn't be good, that was for damned sure. Hopefully, she will have healed enough physically to handle the mental pain the memories would be certain to inflict.

Leaning over he kissed her lightly on the forehead and instantly froze in place. Not only was her skin decidedly cool, but clammy, just the things Claire warned him to watch for. Without a second's hesitation, he yanked down the blankets, lifted her shirt, and palpitated the area just below her ribs.

Alyx's left arm whipped about, grabbing his wrist, fingers sliding between bones and to the nerves there, forcing his hand to open without his command and make him yelp in pain. "Do you want me to severely injure you," she snarled, anger and pain mixing together in her voice.

He pried his hand from her grip, the fingers numb from her expert use of the Vulcan Nerve Pinch Mark II. "Does it hurt more or less than earlier?" he asked, his now uncoordinated hand returning to her side. The bruising was most definitely worse than just an hour ago and her entire side radiated a heat that was a marked contrast to the cooler temp of her forehead.

"You mean waking me up via pain inducement isn't your fun new way of getting your rocks off?" she snarked, head arching back as she whimpered in pain.

"Seriously, baby, more or less?" he persisted, applying pressure as Claire had instructed him earlier.

She groaned, her hand again whipping out, but this time her hold was gentle, what she currently felt coming though loud and clear. "More," she finally managed, teeth grit together.

"Could the pain meds be wearing off?"

"Nuh-uh," she mumbled. "Should be wearing off 'bout the time we hit the office in the a.m."

"Then we may have a problem, sweets." He tugged her shirt back into place and slid out of bed, hunting up clothes.

"Problem?" she echoed, the drugs doing their job as advertised and dragging her back under now that he wasn't making the various pain receptors flare with agony.

Darien came out of the bathroom buttoning his pants, cell phone to his ear. Claire answered after only two rings.

"_This is the Keeper._"

"Keep, we got a problem," Darien told her in an amazingly calm voice. He pulled the t-shirt on one-handed, only having to shift the phone for a couple seconds to complete the task, then stuffed his bare feet into the pair of sneakers hiding under the foot of the bed. He'd been looking for the pair for a couple days and had wondered where they'd scampered off to.

_"Her side?"_ Claire asked, instantly awake.

"Yep," he answered as he crossed the room to open the door, as trying to do that with an armful of semi-conscious woman would be a challenge, the Agency baby-sitters both turning to look at him in confusion.

_"All right, is she still conscious?"_

"Yes," Darien confirmed. He'd moved back to the bed in preparation of carrying her out of the building and to wherever Claire wanted her brought. He curled a hand under Alyx's chin, her eyes opening to gaze blearily up at him.

_"Good. Try to keep her awake and have one of the agents drive you to Leavitt. I will meet you there,"_ Claire rattled off quickly and concisely, Bobby's voice a soft mutter in the background. _"Do I need to remind you to stay calm?"_

"No need, Keep. We're on our way." Darien snapped the phone shut and stuffed it into his back pocket.

"You'll be butt-dialing her all night doing that," Alyx informed him, a wan smile crossing her features.

"Least it's a nice butt." He helped her to roll onto her back and then, as gently as he could, picked her up. She gasped and bit her lip near-bloody during the actual lifting process. "Sorry, baby," he whispered into her hair. Carrying her as carefully as possible, he strode across the room and out the door to find Laughton and Weinberg waiting expectantly. "Leavitt," was all Darien had to say for them to spring into motion. Weinberg led the way while Laughton called for back-up to watch the apartment.

They tossed the red gumball on the roof and drove as fast as the convoluted maze of one-way streets would allow. So, in less than twenty minutes, they pulled up to the gate at Leavitt only to be waved right in. They'd obviously been expected. Alyx utterly failed to keep her eyes open, but he could feel she was still awake, every bump being transmitted through the car's lousy springs and into her body. He held her close and spoke soothing words, but doubted they did much good, her pain level increasing moment by moment regardless of the veracity of the current batch of painkiller.

They pulled up in front of the emergency entrance, an orderly swinging open the car door almost before it had come to a complete stop. Darien climbed out and carried her inside to be met with a horde of nurses pushing a gurney and Claire clearly in charge. She gave Darien a quick smile then began tossing off orders even as they whisked Alyx away through a set of flapping double doors.

Hobbes magically appeared at Darien's side. "She'll be fine, my friend."

"I hope so," Darien stated softly, worry stealing his voice from him.

Hobbes couldn't miss it if he'd tried. "Fawkes, it's probably just something minor." He grasped Darien by the arm and steered him towards a couple of uncomfortable-looking seats in an alcove. "Claire'll make sure the kid gets fixed up right."

Darien shook his head.

"What? You think the Keep don't know what she's doing?" Bobby questioned, borderline indignation in his tone.

"It's not that," Darien was quickly reassured his friend. He and the Keeper may have had their issues in the past, but most of them had been worked out. The inevitable Keeper/Kept relationship still required even if the line had been very much blurred with the changes that had taken place over the last few years. "I just got a bad feeling about this," he mumbled, ducking his head.

Bobby snorted in amusement. "You been watching the Star Wars Trilogy again, haven't ya?"

Darien lifted his head, a hint of a grin turning his lips upwards. It was true enough; he and Alyx had done the original trilogy a little over a week ago, their moods and time off meshing perfectly once again. Popcorn and space opera had made for a fun-filled day. "Maybe," he finally answered.

Bobby chuckled softly, shaking his head. "Our Princess will be just fine, my friend, and we will find out who did this."

Darien rubbed the back of his head, an odd hollow ache springing up for an instant that he recognized from the dream. "Bobby, I'm thinking..." he trailed off, not quite sure how to say what he wanted to say.

"Fawkes?" Hobbes gestured at the chairs and, after a second of hesitation, they sat, huddled together in an effort to keep the discussion to follow vaguely private. "What's up?"

"Had a weird dream..."

"One _a'those_ dreams?"

Darien shook his head. "No... I don't think so anyway. I think it might have been her's... Alyx's."

Bobby nodded sagely. He knew about the whole accidental dream sharing thing, even though he didn't really understand the why or how of it. "And?"

"Keep told us Alyx is a big blank about what happened today... yesterday."

"Yep. But you think different."

"Yeah. Not that I'm saying she's lying, just that she's blocking the memory for whatever reason," Darien didn't want sound like he was accusing Alyx of anything, though it wouldn't be the first time she'd spun a tale in order to accomplish her goals, be they personal or work-related.

"A blow to the head'll do that to anyone, my friend. Wouldn't be the first time she's lost some time, y'know?" Bobby pointed out, the reminder gentle.

And true. Just prior to Chrysalis' reintroduction into their lives Alyx had taken a swung section of rebar to the side of the head that had wiped a good ten minutes from her memory and left her blind for several days. Darien pondered that situation and compared it to the existing one. Yeah, they had blows to the head in common, which could very well contribute to the memory issues, but he had the feeling there was a hell of a lot more to it than that.

"That's just it, I've a feeling it's not lost, just... blocked. Like it's something real bad that she doesn't _want_ to remember," Darien explained, praying silently to that god he no longer believed in that he was wrong.

"Maybe that's all to the good, then. Our minds do shit like that to protect us. No matter how strong we think we are, sometimes there's stuff we just can't handle. This may be one'a those things the kid can't." Bobby's solemn tone hit Darien like a punch to the gut.

"What could be so bad that she'd... that her mind would try to protect her? Given the seven kinds of hell she's been through in her life, what could have happened..." A hand on his arm stopped him.

"Darien, whatever it is, we'll figure it out later. Worrying about it now doesn't do you or the kid a lick'a good." Bobby gave his partner a gimlet stare as if wanting to make certain his words were sinking in. "Get through this moment," he jabbed a finger at the cheap tile floor in emphasis, "then move onto the next."

Darien nodded in agreement, knowing his friend was right, but being driven by the urge to figure out the meaning of the dream and the worry churning in his gut _now_.

Claire magically appeared then, wearing a set of blue scrubs, complete with little hat and a mask dangling around her neck.

"Keep?" Bobby prompted, getting to his feet.

"Alyx is heading into surgery now." The anger in her voice surprised Darien, her lips drawn together in a tight line as if she wanted to rant and rave at them, but not having the time to do so.

"What's up?" Darien asked, hoping she'd spill enough to keep them from having to play the guessing game while waiting.

"Later," when she saw that go over like a ton of lead bricks she added, "I don't have time now, but I promise you'll get everything I know when she's stable."

"Stable?" Darien squeaked, his stomach dropping at least three floors below his shoes.

Claire sighed heavily. "She's bleeding internally as you surmised - good catch, by the way, probably saved her life - and I need to be in there to observe. And you are on standby in case we need... additional blood."

Darien caught her meaning instantly. Not only had Alyx been bleeding internally enough to need a transfusion, the supply Claire had most likely brought with her from the Agency might not be enough, meaning Darien would get to play donor, as he was the only readily available source with Quicksilver saturated blood. Risky to use him given Alyx's reaction to the toxin in his system, but miles less dangerous than giving her non-Quicksilvered blood. _That_ would kill her in mere moments.

"Shit. That bad, Keepy?' Bobby asked, one hand coming up to rub across his near-bald pate.

"Yes, that bad," she confirmed. "Now, I must go. I'll be back out as soon as it's over." She set a hand on Darien's arm. "Try not to worry too much, you know how your emotional state affects hers."

Darien nodded wondering how the hell he was _not_ supposed to worry while his... girl was in surgery, and major surgery at that. "I'll try."

"All I can ask." And with that she trotted off, back through the double doors and presumably to the OR where Alyx and a surgical team awaited her appearance.

Darien threw his hands in the air and stood, moving jerkily to pace the tiny space. "What the hell is going on now?" he asked of the air about him.

"Nothing good, at a bet. Maybe the ER doc missed something?" Bobby suggested. "Won't know till we see copies of the records, though."

Darien whipped about to face him. "Can we arrange that? Or does Claire have to?"

Bobby shrugged. "Only one way to find out," he answered pulling out his phone and dialing someone. "You go get us some coffee, real coffee if you can find it, we're gonna be here for a while."

Darien sighed, but nodded, knowing it was little more than busy work to keep his mind off what was currently happening somewhere within the building. He followed the signs that claimed to be leading him to the cafeteria, trying not to think about the fact someone was taking a very sharp instrument and slicing open Alyx, possibly at that very moment. He had to trust, something that had never been easy for him, trust that Claire would allow nothing bad to happen, trust that the surgical team hastily tossed together knew what they were doing, trust that all the contingencies that could be covered had been and that no complications would arise due to Alyx's weird metabolism and unique medical requirements.

In some random hallway, that he wasn't even certain would lead him where he wasn't sure he was going, he stopped and found a wall for support, the strength in his legs suddenly draining away as realization hit. _I could lose her tonight._ That whatever efforts they went to in that OR could fail and that he could be greeting the coming dawn without ever seeing her again. Without having ever really told her how much he cared about her... how much he loved her. Yeah, the words had slipped past his lips once or twice, most often when under the spell of Quicksilver Madness and therefore not to be believed by anyone, especially her, or most vividly in a desperate effort to keep her from completing a suicide attempt.

_Because I won't lose another person I care about. Someone I... I love._

He'd meant the words, but she'd been so lost in her own despair that he had never been certain if she'd heard them, much less understood, what he had said. Somehow, someway even after all the things he'd been through he'd fallen in love with Alyx Silver the first time he'd gazed into those bottomless silver eyes of hers. Oh, not that he'd admitted to it, even to himself, for a long time. Just blew off that deeper emotion, focusing on the lust and desire that rode along the surface, terrified to admit even to himself, a hardened, jaded ex-thief and ex-con, that he could, after being emotionally damaged so many times, be dealt a hand of love at first sight was simply absurd.

Yet here he was, years later, still wanting her, still needing her, still in love with her, and fully cognizant of that fact.

Somewhere, on some fluffy throne-bearing cloud, God was surely pointing and laughing, probably amazed that Darien had figured this out at all.

Darien slid down the wall, knees drawn up to his chest, a hand raking through his hair, distress easily visible on his countenance by anyone who might walk by, not that there was much traffic in these hallways at oh-dark-hundred, military hospital or not. This was when all good boys and girls should be sound asleep and tucked into their beds. That was where he wanted to be right now. Tucked into bed, his or hers didn't matter, never had, curled about her, her warm body pressed up against his, the feel of her skin on his, the scent of her, the slow steady breath, all of it. He wanted it, today and forever.

Wanted everything to be all right, to be normal. As normal as things ever were with their beyond crazy lives.

On second thought, no, he _wanted_ normal. Real normal. No gland, no super powers, no Agency. Just him and her as two ordinary people, with ordinary, boring, safe jobs and none of this God and Country crap that forced them to risk their lives on a daily basis. Wanted an ordinary life that would be anything but with her in it to brighten his days and challenge his mind.

Feeling tears threatening, he brought the heels of both hands to his eyes, hoping to force them back with the pressure. Why had he gone and let himself open up to anyone? Why had he, like a fucking fool, taken the risk to care about her given his track record? Everyone of importance around him died or left. All of them. Why?

He knew the answer... the excuse. He hadn't _let_ her in, she'd been shoved on him all unwillingly and he'd gone and fallen for the 'Fish's ploy along with her. He hated that. Hated that the Official had known him so very well even after only a short time and knew exactly how to play him. And the man had. Had planned the whole thing out months in advance, Darien's crash and burn with Stage Five had only added fuel to the fire and made it so much easier for the Official. Darien would have grabbed onto just about anything at that point, any lifeline tossed his way. It just so happened to come in the form of a young-looking, powerfully gifted redhead who was twice as smart as she was beautiful.

The Official could have encouraged Bobby or the Keeper to make a move, but instead relied on Darien's continued slide into depression to work in his favor by showing that there could be someone worse off, could be someone who hated the situation just as much, and who would possibly grab onto a lifeline of her own. Gave Darien someone who would understand and sympathize with the hell everyday life had become. Only it had worked too well, perhaps.

As ordinary people, the two of them would never... He derailed that train of thought, knowing they had met, years before, as kids. A weird twist of happenstance that seemed to occur regularly with those associated with the Agency. Oh, the questions Darien would ask of his Uncle Peter, or Kevin had they survived to this point. Questions that the Official, the only other possible source of information, would surely refuse to listen to even if he actually had all the answers.

There were days he'd wished they'd never met, days where loving her had caused nothing but a huge ache throughout his body, mind, and soul, days when the mere thought of her brought nothing but pain and anguish. Yet, still he loved her.

Stupid, maybe, but there it was.

Sometime later Bobby found him there and, much to Darien's surprise, instead of admonishing him for sitting there wallowing in darkness and despair, he simply sat down beside his friend, handed him a cup of coffee, and joined in the silence.


	3. Chapter 3

It was well after dawn when Claire returned, still in the scrubs, the little blue hat askew, and mask hanging down around her neck, looking exhausted and irritated.

"Well?" Hobbes asked before Darien could even get his bleary thoughts assembled into coherency.

Claire managed a tired smile. "She's fine, in the recovery room. You'll be able to see her in a little while."

"See? Toldja everythin'd be okay."

Darien sighed in relief, the worry easing, but not releasing its grip completely. Yeah, she'd survived this part, but who the hell knew what was coming next on this roller-coaster ride. "What caused the bleeding?" he asked, throat tight.

Claire turned away, waving for them to follow her. She maintained her silence as they walked through those double doors, down seemingly random hallways, past two security checkpoints where they were required to flash their IDs and sign in before being allowed to pass, eventually arriving at a room plainly set aside for Claire's use. Every surface, both horizontal and vertical, covered in brushed steel, which made it look like an older operating room or exam room converted into workspace. She walked across the room and picked up a file. From inside she withdrew a series of hastily developed photographs and an evidence bag. She handed the pictures to Hobbes, who shuffled through them quickly.

"This," Claire wagged the bag she held, answering Darien's question as if the intervening minutes hadn't happened, "was found lodged in Alyx's spleen." At the surely visible draining of blood from Darien's face, she added. "We saved it... the spleen, that is, but she'll need a few weeks to recover fully. This was major surgery."

Darien nodded tightly, wondering exactly how white he looked at the moment given the easy-to-see worry on his good Keeper's face, and took the bag from her nerveless grip to get a look at just what caused all the trouble. It appeared to be a thin sliver of wood about an inch long, one end pointed, the other ragged, as if it had been snapped off with force. "A toothpick?"

"Your guess is as good as mine at the moment. I have been granted access to the labs here and will be running any number of tests, so I should have preliminary results in twenty-four hours or so," Claire explained as Hobbes took the bag to examine offending piece of wood more closely.

"Hobbes?" Darien knew that look on his partner's face, the knit together brows, the tiny lines by his lips and eyes, Bobby suspected something, and it wasn't good.

"This ain't small Keep, how'd the ER docs miss it?" Hobbes handed everything back to Claire who returned it to the file and set it aside.

"They didn't. I saw Alyx's X-rays myself and that... toothpick wasn't there," she told them, her voice suddenly lacking any color or emotion, which could only mean one thing... Keepy was pissed. She directed their attention to the light box, which she switched on revealing two X-rays, one full on, the other from the side, both of which showed a glowing one-inch long bit of something stuffed in a formless blob in Alyx that Darien now knew was her spleen. No wonder she'd bled so badly, his palpitating the area had probably only aggravated the damage, turning it from a slow bleeder to a massive one.

He shivered at the realization that he might have killed her. Not that he'd shoved that thing in her, but checking her over, as inexpertly as he had, might very well have made the problem worse.

Claire must have seen his thoughts reflected on his face. "Darien, sweetheart, this was not your fault. You did not put that," she pointed to the item on the X-ray, "into Alyx. You saved her life by doing as I requested."

Darien shook his head. "Pressure in the wrong spot would have-"

"Yes, it would have, but she was already bleeding internally, a slow death instead of a quick one. Whatever happened, it was all to the good. You got her here in plenty of time and she _will_ heal. I promise you that, Darien. Alyx will walk away from this with minimal damage." The tone was reassuring, but Darien had trouble believing it, the last thing he wanted was to be the cause of Alyx's untimely demise. And that realization circled him back to his earlier thoughts, that it was his fault she was here, that none of this would have happened had he just handled his life better that first year he'd been with the Agency.

Bobby's voice dragged him up out of the pit he'd been sliding into. "Damn, kid's got cracked ribs."

"Yes," Claire agreed, turning away from Darien for the moment. "Minor, but painful and also not on the X-rays I looked at. I would have never authorized her to go home had I known any of this." She turned back to Darien a self-deprecating smile on her lips. "See, you are not the only one blaming yourself for Alyx's current sorry state. I feel just as much to blame. You," she set a hand on his shoulder, "caught what I obviously missed."

"That don't make any sense, Keep," Bobby shook his head. "No way you woulda missed something like this."

"I agree, Bobby, but I will swear to you that the X-ray I looked at showed none of this. Which means it either happened after she was released..."

"Not possible, she was with Drake and two agents at all times," Bobby reminded her.

She nodded in acknowledgement of his statement. "Or these injuries were always there and the X-rays I looked at weren't hers."

"Or doctored," Darien pointed out. "This wasn't an accident. Someone intentionally swapped the X-rays knowing she'd be sent home to..."

"Die," Bobby finished, voice black as a moonless night in the desert.

Darien swallowed hard, his eyes meeting Bobby's. They both knew there was whole laundry list of enemies that would love to see her damaged on a permanent basis, some within their own government, which meant finding out who might be making a move this time would be a challenge. Maybe too much time, given her now vulnerable state. Even Leavitt's security wouldn't be enough if someone truly wanted to get to her.

"Shit," Darien muttered. "It could be anyone."

"Or no one," Claire quickly stated. "It is possible she was simply a target of opportunity."

Bobby snorted, "Not bloody likely, Keep. Whoever got to her, knew about her talents, how else could they get close enough to whack her upside the head?"

"But even if they did know, she would have sensed them long before they got close," Claire pointed out, brow furrowing as she thought.

"Not necessarily. I can block her, which severely limits her range," Darien informed them, though the knowledge was nothing new to either of them. "If her attackers had been trained, then, yeah, they could've gotten close enough."

"Coulda been Changeling," Bobby said, jumping on the idea like a mutt on a Milkbone, "Most a'them are a big blank to her, right?"

"Right," Darien agreed. "But this ain't like them. They want her alive, remember?" For which, at this moment he was quite thankful as it allowed them to remove at least one possibility from a long list.

"Unless something has changed and they now want her out of the way," Claire suggested.

Well, that put them right back on the list.

"We're just chasing our tails here. We need to follow the evidence, _then_ beat the crap out of the guilty party." Darien rubbed his forehead, a headache forming between his eyes. "First things first, how'd the ER doc screw up and why?"

"The doc coulda been in on it." Bobby clearly didn't like the idea, but knew it had to be said. "We'll know more when the file is delivered."

Claire asked, "What file?"

"The kid's, from the ER. I made some calls and arranged for a copy of it to be couriered over here ASAP," he answered with a smug smile. "We'll have the police reports sometime tomorrow."

"Way to go, partner." Darien held out his fist and got a knuckle bump from Hobbes, who had every right to be pleased with himself.

"The two incidents could be unrelated." Once again, Claire obviously felt the need to play Devil's Advocate.

"Claire..." Darien all but whined. "Stop poking holes in our theories. At least till we all know more, 'kay?"

Claire managed a weak chuckle. "All right."

A guard knocked on the door frame then.

"Yes, sergeant?" Hobbes questioned.

"There's a gentleman out front claiming to be from the Agency. Says he's delivering a file from a local hospital," the sergeant explained.

"Finally," Hobbes muttered. "I'll take care of this and be back here ASAP with the goods." He followed after the sergeant, leaving Darien and Claire alone.

"How is she, really?" he asked staring blindly at the X-rays on the light box.

Claire sighed. "Been better, of course, but she will be fine with some time." Her assurances fell upon deaf ears; part of Darien convinced this would not end well no matter what Claire said. "You don't agree?"

Darien shrugged, one hand running through is hair and making the already tousled mess even worse. He needed food and sleep and knew he wouldn't be getting any in the near future. In some ways afraid to sleep, for fear he would awake to discover he'd lost Alyx while in the Land of Nod. Not that he could do that much more while conscious, other than pretend that he had some control over the situation. "I think that if it were a simple matter of fixing the usual collection of injuries, then, yeah, everything would be fine. This ain't our usual fuck up, though, is it?"

Claire gazed up at him with those baby blues of hers, concern plain in her very posture, not just in her eyes. Even she seemed to get this was something beyond the normal range of Agency-related issues. "No, it's not and we will take every reasonable precaution. I want to lose her no more than you, Darien."

"Is that the Keeper talking or Claire?" Darien asked a wry twist to his lips as his words echoed similar ones from a couple years ago when Alyx had shown up on his doorstep in the throes of severe Quicksilver withdrawal.

"Would you believe me if I said both?" she responded without offense.

"_That_ I would believe," he responded. "She still fascinates you."

Claire nodded vigorously. "Very much so, but on this occasion, at least, my friendship outweighs any scientific interest. I am worried about her, but as her doctor I have to maintain that necessary distance in order to treat her."

Darien knew all this, but didn't mind the repetition, or the honesty. Alyx needed a doctor and Claire was pretty much the only one who understood all the potential hazards. He didn't even want to know what hoops had been jumped by the surgical staff in order to put Alyx back together. The allowed procedures could surely be counted on the fingers of one hand, though tonight those strict rules had probably been tossed through the proverbial closed window, shattering protocol without regard to the Official's wishes. Then again, the Fat Man had a very decided interest in keeping his investment hale and whole. If that meant turning a blind eye to some things and cleaning up the mess afterwards, then so be it.

"Claire, do what you need to. I just want her to get well, okay?"

"Done," she agreed.

Bobby returned then, a large sealed file in his hand. He handed it over to Claire as soon as she got to his side. "I sent Franklin to the recovery room to guard the kid. Official's orders," he added quickly when it looked like Claire would protest. "She's to have one of our guys with her at all times."

"The 'Fish is that worried?" Darien asked in surprise.

"Yeah. Though if he's caught wind of something he ain't ready to share it with the likes of us, but he's got the place on alert and Drake pulling every puppet string he can find." Bobby rubbed his face in his hands.

"Oh goody," Darien grumbled. If the 'Fish was worried, truly worried, then Alyx was most definitely still in danger.

"Bloody hell," Claire swore from across the room. She was back in front of the light box, a new set of X-rays before her. Even a passing glance showed there was damage matching that on the set taken at Leavitt. Claire held up the newer ones against the older, showing that the sliver of wood had indeed shifted during the intervening hours, wending it's way deeper into Alyx's body. While well within the muscle tissue, it clearly had not punctured the spleen when the original X-ray had been taken. That had happened later, much as Darien had feared.

Bobby picked up the actual file and thumbed through it. "The ER doc was-" he stopped, a shocked expression on his face when he lifted his head to look at Darien.

"What, Hobbes? Just spill already." Not like a another shock was gonna do all that much more damage at this point. Darien was pretty damn numb mentally and emotionally after the wringer he'd been through today.

"Doctor Casey O'Claire," Bobby finally said.

Okay, so maybe he wasn't quite numb enough. "Casey? No way."

"Yes way, my friend, which just makes this look even worse. Could she have known you and the kid are... you know," Hobbes, as usual, prevaricated when it came to the whole relationship thing.

"Having sex?" Darien suggested making his partner blush and bluster.

Claire sidled over to Bobby to read the file over his shoulder. "Doubtful. You're not even listed as Alyx's emergency contact as a precaution. Drake is."

Darien nodded. He knew that and even agreed with it. Kept everyone safe... well, safer, and made the Official aware of an impending situation swiftly. "And why would Casey care? She left me, remember?" Though, in truth, that still burned. She'd said she would help and then abandoned him, left him to the wolves at the Agency without a friend in the world to look to for even the tiniest hint of comfort. He'd hurt for a long time after that and had spent many a night wondering why. Wanting some sort of closure he knew he might never be permitted to receive. And now... well now it looked like his ex-girlfriend had tried to kill his current one.

Ah, this day just couldn't get any better.

Claire had taken the file from Bobby's hands, reading it over in detail from the looks of things, but the deep frown on her face gave Darien a twinge of concern. She muttered something under her breath that Bobby must have caught given the sudden draining of color from his face.

"You didn't check?" Bobby asked, voice strained.

"I didn't know," she told him, voice hard.

Whatever they had read clearly could not be good news by any stretch of the imagination. "What? And don't bother to pretty it up, I can already tell it's bad."

"Egon bad, my friend. Says here they did a rape kit." Bobby's tone was sympathetic, for which Darien was thankful, but it didn't stop the sharp sudden kick in his gut or the red haze that stole across his sight as the sudden need to throttle the son of a bitch who had done that to _his girl_ shook him to his very core.

That not-dream he'd had suddenly made a lot more sense, as well as Alyx's sudden loss of memory. Not that this had been the first time she'd been raped. Her husband had damned near inured her to that particular degradation, but it would only screw up her fragile sense of self even more. "They held her down," he said softly, going over the bits of the dream/memory. "They beat her, they held her down, whispered sweet nothings in her ear, and they raped her." Hands balled into fists tight enough to cause his nails to bite into the flesh of his palms, he snarled, "I'll kill 'em."

"Fawkes, you won't need to. I made some calls..."

Darien lifted his head to glare at Bobby, his anger almost overriding his common sense at that moment. It would be stupid to just run off after Alyx's attackers, especially when he had no clue who they were, or where they might be found.

"... only three of them survived. The kid... the kid dealt with 'em."

Darien stopped dead_... a moment of clarity allowing but a single murderous thought..._

"Oh shit," he muttered. No wonder she'd blocked the memory if she'd done what he suspected. "I need to see Alyx, _now_."

Claire rushed to his side. "No. Not now. Not with those thoughts I'm certain are in your head right now. Alyx claims to not remember and I do not need her to learn what we suspect until she's stronger."

"You saying that she wasn't actually raped?" he questioned, knowing in his heart that she had been.

"Let me examine her and see the tests results, then I'll answer you. Until then you should go speak with Doctor O'Claire and discover how both she and the radiologist on duty missed such blatantly obvious injuries." Claire's tone brooked no argument, not that Darien really wanted to. She was correct, right now, the last place he should be was near Alyx who could pick the truth out of his mind without even meaning to. He needed a couple hours to center himself, and lock that knowledge in a deep, dark closet that only he had the key to. Not an easy task by any means, but one she had trained him to do. He just needed enough time to calm down and follow the steps.

Hobbes had grabbed the X-rays and shoved them back into the file, they would need them to wave in front of Casey when they questioned her. Claire had enough of the information within to deal with the immediate issues, along with all the various tests she had to run on that mystery toothpick. It was going to be a long day for all of them.


	4. Chapter 4

The drive to Cabrillo was done in an eerie silence, as both men were terrified of starting a conversation because they knew exactly where it would lead. And that would be right back to the woman currently ensconced in a recovery room at Fort Leavitt. Alyx was in some ways their Achilles Heel, as either of them would go to the ends of the Earth for her, if for different reasons. Neither man wanted to lose her not after all the effort that had been put in over the last six months or so to insure her safety. The SWRB, Changeling, and Chrysalis at the top of a long list of those who would love the opportunity to use her for their own nefarious purposes. Only sheer luck and chutzpah by the Official had kept her at the Agency and relatively safe. Their boss played the game very well, but even his last few moves had cost him some important pieces on the board. Eberts, his right hand man, gone. Revealed to be a mole for Changeling and with his own agenda that the Official had been completely unaware of. In fact, none of them, including Alyx had suspected, which is why Changeling frightened the piss out of all of them. They could _hide_ from Alyx. With tricks they'd developed over the long decades, they could program and control their minds, a shell personality over the true one that she simply couldn't see. Not easily, anyway. She could break them, the shells, but it required the use of a certain chemical cocktail that had high risks and tended to bring out Alyx's version of QSM, a persona that Darien politely referred to as an amoral hellcat. An appellation with which the hellcat in question agreed wholeheartedly.

Alyx made no bones about the person she became when on the enhancement drug, which is why she took such care using it. Darien wished there were some other option, but... You did what you had to do to get the job done. Sometimes the sacrifice necessary was bigger than one would like, but necessary all the same. Alyx had a huge Adric complex and would risk herself in a heartbeat to protect those she deemed worthy, and there had been several in the last couple of years and she bore the scars to show for it.

As Cabrillo hospital wove it's way into view Darien's thoughts rewound about four years. The last time he'd come here to see Casey, she'd offered to help him, to use that brilliant mind of hers to rebuild Kevin's work in hopes of getting the gland out of Darien's brain. Instead, he'd found himself with a Keeper and Casey refusing his calls. He'd always suspected that the Agency had had something to do with Casey's sudden change of heart and though often tempted to go talk to her in person, decided to abide by her wishes. One attempt at killing Hobbes early on in his experience with Quicksilver Madness proved she'd be safer far, _far_ away from Darien Fawkes and his Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde impression. Even after the monitor had been placed in his wrist, he'd stayed away, figuring she deserved a chance at a real life without a fuck-up like him.

He'd seen her now and then around town, but had made certain to keep his distance, to make no overtures at all, no matter how much he wanted to. Even after Alyx had come into his life, he'd wondered about Casey, if only to assure himself she was happy; wanting that sense of closure sorely lacking with their sudden and unexpected, by him at least, parting. So, it was with great trepidation that Darien walked into the Emergency Room of Cabrillo Hospital, Hobbes at his side, with that huge file tucked under his arm. The look of determination making it clear he would be pulling no punches with the good doctor, Darien's ex or not.

Hobbes had already checked to see if Casey would be on duty, and indeed was. He flashed his badge at the desk and they were escorted through the doors and told to wait at a nurse's station in the midst of several examination rooms, most of which were thankfully empty. No great emergency besieging the hospital this time around to be used as an excuse for why a certain X-ray or chart had been misread. Darien wanted to believe that Casey had nothing to do with Alyx's sorry state, but knew, thanks to his time at the Agency, that anyone could be bought, and feared his ex-girlfriend had.

Nearly ten minutes passed before Casey appeared, laughing at something the gentleman beside her said. The laughter cut short when she turned and her eyes met Darien's. She didn't seem upset, more surprised to see him standing there. She excused herself from her co-worker and strode briskly over to where he and Hobbes waited.

"Darien? What are you doing here?"

"Have some questions for you concerning a case you handled yesterday," Darien told her, doing his best to keep his voice neutral.

When she did nothing more than stare at him in confusion, he pulled out his badge and showed it to her. "Someone called ahead and told you we'd be coming by?"

Hobbes echoed his move.

"Yes, I just didn't realize..." she trailed off as if seeing Darien with a badge had been the very last thing she'd expected. "What do you need?"

"There someplace private we can talk?" Hobbes asked, lifting the file up so she could see it.

"X-rays?" she asked.

"Yep," Hobbes confirmed.

She nodded. "This way." The walk was fairly short, ending at a room very similar to the one Claire had been stashed in at Leavitt. Must be a standard room in all hospitals. "May I?" She held out her hand for them and Hobbes handed it over. She pulled out the X-rays and slid them up onto the light box, flicking it on. "I don't recognize these," she said after a moment. "Who was the patient?"

"Alyx Silver. Came in yesterday afternoon around three p.m. We have a copy of the file here," Darien told her as Bobby pulled out the file.

"Just need the patient number."

Bobby rattled it off and she excused herself to fetch her original copy. When she returned she slid her X-ray copies on the next light box down and the difference was easily visible to both men. The cracked ribs were gone. The toothpick thing magically invisible. Those were the obvious differences; Darien realized after a few moments that the torso shape was completely different on Casey's copy.

"That's not Alyx," Darien stated.

"Are you certain?" Casey questioned, tone decidedly stiff.

"Well, the X-rays our doc took, match these ones the hospital sent over injury-wise. We can get you copies if you need them." Bobby made sure to keep his voice neutral, and Darien knew why. If Casey had been in on it they needed to pay out just enough rope to see if she'd hang herself with it. However, he knew that look on her face, she wasn't happy with what she was seeing or hearing.

"Is Miss Silver all right?" Casey asked, the concern in her voice and eyes real.

"She will be," Darien answered. "Could the radiology department have sent you the wrong films?"

Casey shook her head. "No... well, yes they could have, but they didn't. Look here," she pointed to what looked like a serial number in the lower right corner, "they match on both films. This one," she tapped the one from her file, "is the fake." She rotated about to face them. "I'll need to check the computer records, but someone clearly dummied this one up. Yours would have been made from the saved image, which is why it doesn't match mine." She hugged herself. "Why would someone do this?"

Bobby looked at Darien who shrugged. "You and Agent Fawkes here used to date, yes?"

Casey blinked, surprised by the sudden non sequitur. "Yes, but what does that-"

Bobby didn't let her finish. "Were you aware that Miss Silver and Agent Fawkes are currently in a relationship?"

"No, why..." She gazed up at Darien. "Isn't she a little young for you?"

Darien chuckled. "No, she isn't, trust me on that one."

She shook her head. "Even if I had known, why would I care?" She aimed those wicked blue eyes of hers at Hobbes. "She was my patient and her relationships are none of my business." Then she turned back to Darien. "Are you happy?"

Darien managed a smile. "Very," he answered honestly.

"Good. Agent Hobbes, I can assure that I will do everything to assist you in discovering how this was done and by whom. An incident like this puts all our patients at risk, not just our high profile ones." Her tone alone told Darien volumes and he was amazed that she had changed so little that he could still read her after all this time. Which, of course, made him wonder, yet again, why she had bailed on him after promising to help. Casey, much like Alyx, made every effort to never go back on her word.

Hobbes grunted in acknowledgement and opened the copy of the file. "Says here you ran a rape kit on Miss Silver."

Casey nodded, glancing hesitantly over at Darien who did his best to keep his game face on. No need for her to know how those words made his blood boil. "Yes, I did. More as a matter of routine at the time, but we did get the preliminary test results back." She picked up her copy of the file and thumbed through the pages. "Tests came back positive for spermicide, but no semen was found. It would appear that at least some of the assailants used condoms."

" 'At least _some_ of the assailants'?" Darien's head whipped about to Hobbes. "How many were there?"

"You don't know?" Casey questioned, brows knit together in what appeared to be concern.

Bobby answered. "No, we don't. Haven't had a chance to chat with the responding officers yet."

"Oh, Darien, I'm so sorry. I just assumed if you were here, that you knew." She struggled to regain her composure, her sympathy and concern for him very real. She surely recalled how touchy he could be on certain subjects. "There were multiple attackers, based on bruising and... tearing I would estimate at least six. I recommended a run of antibiotics as a precaution and offered to write her a 'day-after' script, but she refused."

Darien managed a tiny nod, swallowing hard. The room suddenly felt way too warm. "Bobby..." he got out a throat gone tight and bone dry.

Hobbes grabbed a nearby stool and slid it under Darien just as his knees decided to give out. Red rage and abject horror warred for dominance in his mind. "You okay, partner?"

Darien tilted his head and gave Hobbes a glare that spoke volumes.

"Right. Stupid question," Hobbes muttered, contrite. "Doc, what happened to her clothes?"

"The SDPD collected them, even spoke to her, but she wasn't very coherent. In fact, she claimed to remember nothing of the actual incident." Casey glanced at Darien, looking almost as if she wanted to walk over to him and comfort him, but unsure such an overture would be welcome. "Given her head injury, I'm not surprised. I wanted to admit her overnight for observation, but Doctor Keeply wouldn't permit it."

She raised a delicate eyebrow in question.

"The kid... Miss Silver has some unique medical issues that need to be handled at a more... secure facility," Hobbes explained, using his best steps to dance around the answer.

Casey bought it though. "Understood. I don't imagine she's the only one with unique medical needs," she said with a grim smile and a glance at Darien. A distinct reminder that she did indeed know all about the gland and it's highly classified nature.

"Were any of Miss Silver's attackers brought here?"

"No. We got hit with the victims of a multi-car accident on the PCH shortly after I completed my initial examination. I'm afraid that is partly why I allowed Dr. Keeply to take over her treatment, I was swamped with new patients," Casey told them frankly. "With the restrictions in place as to procedures were are permitted to run, I was certain she would be well taken care of."

"She is, Casey," Darien assured her, having finally calmed down enough to speak at something other than a low snarl. He was still pissed off and wanting revenge in a bad way, but it would have to be deferred for the time being. "Any idea where her... the alleged attackers were taken?" Might as well pretend to be a professional about the whole thing.

She shook her head. "SDPD would know, I'm certain."

"Yeah, we're still waiting on them. We're gonna need some info. Someone at this end knew she'd be coming in. That X-ray trick ain't something you do on the fly." Bobby began pacing the small room, thinking five times faster than he was walking Darien was certain. "Gonna need a list of everyone who was working that shift, security vids, who had access, the whole shebang."

Casey paled at his words. "I can't do that myself, we'll have to go through admin, and they might require a warrant."

"We'll have one if necessary," Darien stated, knowing the 'Fish would have one here in record time if needed. "Let's ask first, pretend to be nice and all. Doubt your bosses will want it getting around they hired someone who tried to kill a fed while on their clock."

"Blackmail? I'm surprised at you, Darien. Thought you were just a con man."

Darien stiffened, readying a retort, but the thin smile and twinkle in her eye surprised him. She was actually kidding, much to his amazement. "Government work, y'know, learned a new trick or two the last couple of years."

Hobbes snorted in amusement. "That's putting it mildly, pal. Doc, if you would lead the way, we'll be more than happy to go through channels."

Going through channels took longer than they liked, but with minimal persuasion, they convinced the administrator to work with them and release not only Alyx's records, but the staff information they needed to begin. With Alyx's files in hand and a preliminary list of who had been on during the shift in question the day before they headed back to Leavitt.

Darien knew this wouldn't be the last time they'd see Casey over the next few days. Claire was sure to have a ton of questions for her if nothing else. He hoped they might get a chance to talk in private, but he'd have to wait and see. The next few hours, never mind days, were going to be busy and nerve-wracking ones as it stood, dealing with the ex while the current was seriously injured might not be the best timing, however, he'd take it if that's how things played out.

Bobby reminded him to get his head on straight before they arrived, else Claire wouldn't allow Darien anywhere near Alyx. So, while Bobby took the long way around to the military hospital, Darien set about centering and calming himself. He would need to hide the truth of what had happened deep to keep her from picking up on it. He found it strange, he who used to lie for a living, and in some ways still did, disliking the need to lie, or at least temporarily deceive Alyx. Yes, he could understand and even agree with why, but that didn't make it a comfortable fit, which made the whole situation even odder. He didn't block the emotional baggage completely as she'd be suspicious as to why he felt nothing. He had every right to feel upset and angry and a need for vengeance. He wanted her attackers caught, he just needed to keep the emotions in check. No need to overwhelm her with his issues. Not now.

He did wonder to how she'd react to him wanting to revisit the whole Casey thing. Most chicks weren't too fond of the boyfriend hanging out with an ex, though he suspected, that like with every other aspect of their relationship, Alyx would have a totally unexpected view of the situation. He was pretty certain he knew how she'd react, but would still tiptoe around the subject just in case. In fact, the whole discussion might be a useful distraction from her current state of body and mind. Something not bogged down in the whole life or death thing that was often the focus of their lives. Dealing with an ex-girlfriend might just be the ticket to bring up a whole worrisome conversation that Darien had been avoiding ever since getting her Valentine's Day gift. Relationship discussions were few and far between for them, any number of factors - time, energy, being on different continents, just to name the obvious ones - allowing those 'where do we stand' talks to slide and the more physical side to be on the top of the personal to do list. Not the optimal way to run a relationship, but one that had gotten the job done so far.

There were things they just simply never talked about and recently Darien had begun to wonder why.

Claire met them out in the reception area, clipping a badge onto each of their collars - Bobby's sport coat and Darien's tan leather jacket respectively - assuring them they would no longer need to jump through hoops to get through security. She took the new and improved file, which had trebled in size and bustled them into her "office." Hobbes called the Official to get an update on the status of the police reports while Claire pored over the new information that included the results of the few tests run.

Darien managed to go a whole ten minutes before whining piteously, "Claire..."

"What?" she practically snapped, then her brain seemed to rejoin reality and she ducked her head. "Oh, of course."

She ushered him from the room, through the maze of halls and into a decidedly sterile-looking area. A quick discussion at the nurse's station and Darien was led into a private room that had an Agency mook standing guard.

She paused and set a hand firmly on his chest. "How are you?"

"I'm fine, Claire," he responded automatically and saw instantly that she didn't buy it. "I'm as calm and in control as I'm going to get considering the situation." There wasn't much more that he could do other than avoiding Alyx completely and there was no way she'd allow that without an explanation as to why, which would give the whole game away. "I take it she still doesn't remember?"

"Not a thing as far as I've been able to determine. And I want to keep it that way for the time being. " Claire sighed heavily and rubbed her forehead with one hand. At a guess, the good doctor had been awake for close to twenty-four hours at this point, as she'd only gotten a few minutes of sleep before he had called her in the wee hours of the morning. "I did examine her and what I discovered fits what Dr. O'Claire noted in her report. Alyx was attacked, violently and repeatedly. Some of the bruising was just beginning to manifest post-op and it is clear she had been held down with extreme force before breaking free. The injuries to her extremities were quite possibly caused by her efforts at escape and not intentionally by her captors."

" 'Not intentionally'." Darien barked with harsh laughter. "You're saying she fought hard enough to break her wrist and it wasn't intentional? Lovely." The knife already in his gut twisted just a bit further, but he choked back the emotions that threatened to escape. Claire would not let him see Alyx unless he was in complete control.

"Darien, I know you are upset and want to... to deal with those that hurt her-"

Darien cut her reprimand off at the knees. "Claire, right now all I want to do is see Alyx and know she's okay. I swear to you I will do everything I can to keep her from learning the truth before she's ready, but she's gonna find out eventually."

"Just not today, if you can mange it."

"Not today," he agreed. "Can I see her now, please?" He gave her the full power puppy dog eyes treatment and she caved instantly.

"She's been in and out of consciousness, which is normal." She looked Darien over, catching every sign that he was reaching the point of exhaustion after this exceedingly long day. "Catch a nap if you can, unless Bobby needs you there is no reason you can't remain here. There will be someone by to check her about every thirty minutes and there's the emergency call button if needed."

Darien nodded, bouncing impatiently on the balls of his feet, wanting to see his girl now if not sooner. She swung open the door and gestured for him to precede her into the dimly lit room. Alyx had the place to herself, a lone bed surrounded by beeping boxes and IV poles and assorted other whatnot. He grabbed the chair from the corner of the room and dragged it over while Claire went into the usual routine and checked Alyx's vitals. She made a few notes on the chart, then met Darien's eyes. "She's doing fine. I'll be back in an hour or so to check on her."

Darien gave her a wan smile. "Thanks, Keepy."

She patted him on the shoulder then left him alone, not that he really noticed; his entire attention now on the tiny woman lying so still and silent on the bed before him. Gingerly he lifted her hand and wrapped his about it, noting once again how small hers was in comparison. So small, yet so strong. So much stronger than he could ever be on most days. Glancing down he noticed the new bruises encircling her wrist, clear evidence of the violence Claire had warned him about. He was almost thankful the blankets were tucked tightly around her, afraid to discover exactly where some of that damage lay. Oh, he wasn't a fool and could pretty much guess the exact location of most of the bruising; he just didn't want to deal with it right now. Didn't want to imagine in detail what had to have happened to her; that dream he'd experienced probably only a tiny taste of the horror she must have endured. Gently he lifted her hand and kissed her fingers, the IV in the back of her hand looking decidedly painful at this close-up angle.

"Ah, sweet thing..." he whispered, not entirely certain what he wanted to say to encompass the emotional storm he valiantly contained within. He'd vent later, to Hobbes, to Claire, to anyone who would listen, but for now, he cleared his mind, focused on her getting better, and settled in for her to wake up.


	5. Chapter 5

Darien twitched and opened his eyes, gazing blindly about at a total loss as to where the hell he was. Plain white walls, dim lighting, ugly hospital bed... _Leavitt_, he realized. He turned to look at Alyx, his neck protesting thanks to the position he'd fallen asleep in, head thrown back against chair, probably snoring at the ceiling, which Alyx would have found highly amusing and been certain to regale him with stories of at a later date. Wondering what had woken him up, he looked about the room, but everything appeared to be the same as when he'd zoned out some - he checked his watch - three hours ago. Serious power nap that was, but he had been quite tired by that point given the long work day followed by the stress of Alyx and her sudden need of emergency surgery. Oh, it had just been a roller coaster ride of Superman proportions. Three hours was the minimum for him to be in anything vaguely like useful, he could probably use a dozen more before actually coming close to feeling human again. Three would have to do, as it was a fair bet Bobby would have info ready to run down, either at the hospital or from the police reports. Someone, somewhere knew something and they would find it, no matter what it took.

With a soft groan, he stood and stretched, his lower back protesting, reminding him that a bed, preferably a soft one, was its preferred spot for enjoying unconsciousness. Yawning while scratching his stomach, he felt a definite need for caffeine and food. He'd missed both breakfast and lunch today, and what with one thing or another just hadn't taken the time to refuel. Maybe Claire could arrange for some grub if he asked nicely, somehow he didn't think the local pizza joint would be allowed to deliver here, even if they did have security clearance. He could, he supposed, make his way to that cafeteria he'd never found earlier, but his need to be here when Alyx awoke, to verify in person that she really and truly was all right, overrode any need of his. His hunger was a minor concern compared to what she was stuck dealing with.

Part of him hoped that when she awoke, her memory would have returned, that way they could deal with it and get it over with, the rest, however, hoped she never would. After all the shit she'd had to deal with in her life, the last thing he would wish on her was another round of degradation. He could only imagine how he would feel in her place. Not that he was clueless, but what he'd dealt with in prison had been at least somewhat willing on his part: that deal with the devil so to speak. He'd never been forced to do anything, really, and he'd come out relatively whole in heart and mind, his soul blackened long before he'd done that first hard time. Being held down and raped was not a trauma he'd ever suffered. Alyx was strong and stubborn as hell and with their help would get past this with a minimum of problems... hopefully. Even the strongest break eventually, he would just have to make certain it wasn't today. Or anytime in his lifetime. He liked Alyx just the way she was and wouldn't... okay, so maybe there were a few things that, while not change, per se, he wanted to know more about before voicing his opinion on them. He understood the need for a kind of limbo in their relationship status, understood as much as he could anyway her need to give him the out by refusing to get engaged, never mind married. While not particularly happy about it, given the choice of walking away, he'd take limbo any day of the week and three times on Sunday's should they happen to both have the day off.

Ah, who was he kidding, the chances of him walking away from her were nonexistent. He could no longer imagine a life without her, and there were days that fact frightened him. His life had become so tangled up with hers that he occasionally wondered what he had done, why he'd compromised his life for hers. Of course, he'd realized he hadn't compromised, not really, just expanded his world view to encompass more than his personal self-serving wants and needs. Coming to the Agency and being forced to grow up in a hurry had started the process, meeting Alyx had solidified it, and over those long months a new Darien Fawkes had been born. One who wanted those people who had stolen his life away to respect him and like him and want to be his friend. And by some miracle, that is exactly what happened. The Official might bitch and moan that none of them were as loyal to the job as they were to each other, which was true enough for what it was worth, but the Fat Man also knew that so long as one of them stayed, they all would. That made the Fat Man a mostly happy man. They did the job and did it well, even if it always wasn't with the preferred team spirit. Charlie Borden, just like himself, had adapted and learned to live with the new situation.

He never thought he'd be the kind to want to settle down with one woman, do the whole get married, and have kids thing. Guess you never know until you meet the right woman. He might have spent the rest of his life alone, his only dalliances those with random strangers, if that, given the gland, but instead, through what must have been one of the universes strangest coincidences, he got to meet the girl of his dreams not once, but twice, and on that second meeting get to keep her. What were the chances of that?

He walked back over to the bed, trailed his fingers along her arm, and curled his fingers about hers. He was tempted to drop the side rail and snuggle up next to her, she probably wouldn't mind, and he found himself wanting the close contact. Wanted to up close and personally verify she was indeed all right. So he was surprised when her fingers tightened about his. Although Claire had said Alyx would be in and out of consciousness she'd been out, at least as far as he knew, the entire time. He'd lasted about an hour before falling asleep and she'd not woken during that time.

"Hey there, sleepyhead."

She dragged his fingers up to her lips and kissed them. "Hey, bub," she growled, her voice sounding like she had a dump truck of gravel poured down her throat. She cleared her throat and winced. "Ow."

"Sore throat?"

She nodded. "Stupid intubation does it every time."

He fumbled about for the cheap plastic cup with straw and helped her hold it with her right hand, the cast restricting her gripping ability. She nodded after taking several swallows of the surely tepid liquid. "Better?"

"Yeah," she answered, gazing up at him with eyes dulled to pewter by pain and medication. "You okay?"

"Me? I'm fine." He looked her over, taking note of every bump, bruise, and scrape visible. Her bruised cheek had blossomed in full, the eye partially swollen shut, and distorting the smooth lines of her face. Her left wrist had dark purple bruises surrounding it, the imprints of fingers all the way up her forearm, both upper arms sported bruising that looked just as nasty. Claire hadn't been kidding about her being held violently. The blow to her head must have been a solid one if it had allowed her attackers to get any hand on her. She must have fought like a hellcat to get away and had simply been outnumbered, especially if her powers had been scrambled, which he was betting had occurred, else they never would have gotten near her. Bobby was right, to have managed this they would have had to know about her and what she could do. "Got room in there for me?"

"Yes, please," she answered, her voice a tiny thing.

He dropped the side rail and moving cautiously, they juggled positions until she was lying back on him, her head and upper body supported on his chest and none of the assorted IV lines or wires tangled in any way. An impressive accomplishment given how she'd been wired up. "How're you feeling?" he asked; arms wrapped carefully about her. He could just feel the bandages along her left side under the ghastly hospital gown she wore.

"I hurt, D. Everywhere, and could use a good dose of morphine about now. What'd they do to me?" The pain in her voice was living thing and he only wished he could do more for her. He knew the one box next to the bed was feeding pain meds into her, but clearly they weren't enough and for Alyx to say she was in pain she must hurt indeed.

"You were bleeding internally. Claire said they removed something from your spleen, which you still have, by the way."

"Yippee," she cheered in false enthusiasm.

"You also have some cracked ribs, along with bumps bruises and scrapes over most of your body. Oh, plus those other nifty injuries you knew about before coming home yesterday," he told her, trying valiantly to put humor into his voice.

"Ah, that would explain my inability to take a deep breath. Pressure bandage. I'm guessing I'm stuck here for the duration." She sighed heavily, disliking hospitals even more than Darien did.

"For a couple days at least, I'd guess. The Keep might move you back to the Agency for a while depending on how you're healing." He truly was guessing. He had no idea what Claire had planned when it came to caring for Alyx in her current condition. Considering she'd been sent home with a concussion - not a big deal, really - she might be sent home tomorrow if she healed at even close to her normal rate. Claire wouldn't want the Leavitt docs to become curious as to why their patient was having her stitches removed just three days after having been cut open. It wouldn't be the first time after all. He hoped the surgeon had done a good job stitching her up; she didn't really need another scar to add to her burgeoning collection. Not that she seemed to care; the scars were just physical reminders of incidents she could never erase from her memory anyway. Maybe she'd luck out this time and the physical reminder is all she would have. He doubted the memory from this attack would be a particularly good one.

"Stop brooding," she grouched. "I'll be fine."

She might be in pain and drugged to the gills, but she obviously could still pick up what was going on his head. "Can't help it, sweets, you scared me good."

She lifted a hand and waved it about. "Gotta keep you on your toes somehow. Don't want you to get all comfortable with our current arrangement."

Their current arrangement was nothing to write home about, as they still didn't share one. Alyx still spent more time loaned out to other agencies than she did at home in San Diego. Plus when in town, the Official couldn't exactly allow her time off, and worked her just as much as she could take. She had gotten to the point she would point blank tell them she needed a break before the meltdown occurred, and the bossman had learned to listen, though there had been times he'd been forced by circumstance to work her anyway, but these days he explained to her why, which made her much more amenable to the jobs. Typically out of guilt, in Darien's opinion. Play Alyx just right and she'd cave every time, and the 'Fish knew how to play _all_ of them. Knew just the right heart strings to pluck to get the most out of them, especially when they were at their most reluctant. What that added up to was, on average, ten nights together in the same bed out of every thirty, with maybe another five or six, random afternoons or evenings with a couple hours together. Not exactly outstanding for a long-term relationship, but somehow they managed. Darien got the whole distance makes the heart grow fonder thing as their reunions were occasionally the stuff of legends, but that made the actual separations no easier.

So, her snark about keeping him on his toes was nothing more than her hand waving his sideways glance at his feelings for her. She knew he cared, she had no choice in that given that permanent mental link she had with him, but hearing it spoken aloud seemed to frighten her more than facing down a dozen gunmen all wanting to see her very dead. Bullets were easy, feelings, hers for him, were damn hard. He'd learned to live with it, but often wished she hadn't drawn that line in the sand, the one he was terrified to cross for fear of chasing her away. So he, like a good gambler, let it ride, hoping for the big payoff while settling for the little ones.

Alyx smacked his arm. "You're doing it again."

He chuckled softly and kissed the top of her head. "Sorry. This is going ruin my weekend plans," he mock groused. Not that there hadn't been plotting and planning that was now ruined, 'cause there had been and it now was, ruined that is, but he had to mentally change tracks to keep her from figuring out what was going on. One thing would inevitably lead to another if he wasn't damn careful and then the truth would be out and he'd have one hysterical and injured Alyx and that was never a good thing.

Right now, he would exercise his male right to protect the damsel in distress and revel in it. Hobbes calling Alyx Princess after one Princess Leia was eerily apropos. Both women strong and more than willing to fight for themselves, and finding partner who would allow them to do so. Support without suffocation. A hard thing to manage for even a borderline traditional male. Darien had been raised to hold open doors for ladies, to escort them with a hand on an arm, the whole nine yards thanks to his Aunt Celia and it was a hard habit to break. Casey had loved all that stuff, a true romantic in every sense of the word, yet still a damn strong woman who didn't require a man in her life to get by. Alyx... well she had never been the flowers and chocolate kind, like Casey had, and given their violent introduction - Alyx coming out on top - romance hadn't even been a real option. Did Alyx play the game? Oh hell yeah, could flirt the pants off just about anything, could be one of the guys and tell a bawdy joke with a straight face and laugh at them when told. She was a tom boy through and through, and Darien loved it. It was outrageously fun watching her flirt her way through a game of nine ball and beat her male competition without them realizing it. She smoked cigars, played poker and drank her whiskey (and tequila) straight, liked action movies and watched Die Hard every year at Christmas. Exactly the kind of woman Darien had stayed away from in high school and those couple of years in college. Now he couldn't imagine going anywhere else. He'd preferred those softer female types who liked sweet nothings whispered in their ears and playful persuasion to get them into bed. Even Casey had been one of those, though her personality had been a bit stronger than his usual. She'd been the mothering type, kinda went with the job and all, and Darien had reveled in it. Let her set the pace and persuade him into every step forward in their relationship. He'd even considered giving up his career, his real one and not the one she thought he did, for her. Yeah, he'd loved her, been hurt badly when she'd left, but had survived and learned a thing or two about women in particular and life in general.

"Plans?' Alyx asked, a tired curiosity in her tone.

"Yep, all going to waste with you stuck in here." He made an effort to sound entirely put upon and upset about the whole thing, but she didn't buy it for a second.

"Mook, we'd've been lucky if I was still in town," she pointed out, words decidedly slurred, as if her mouth wasn't in the mood to form the words her brain sent.

"You okay?" he asked sudden worry making his stomach roil in discomfort.

"Uh huh. Just a bit light headed... or something," her voice faded as she spoke, her right hand coming up to rub her forehead, the wash of confusion coming off her cranked his concern up yet another notch. "Now, what were you thinking so hard about this time?"

Oh, what a question. And oh, how to answer it. Perhaps the truth? "Uh, Casey. My ex."

She twitched. "Casey? Why?"

This was going to be a fun one to explain. "She was the ER doc who took care of you."

"Oh... _Oh_." Not the most witty repartee ever, but pretty much covering the whole mess. "My brain must've been really scrambled to not realize Dr. O'Claire was your Casey."

"I'd say scrambled was an understatement, babe." He hugged her tighter for an instant, wanting to hold on for much longer, but afraid he'd hurt her.

"I won't break, Dare," she said softly, titling her head to catch his face in the corner of her eye, then winced. "Urf, found the goose egg."

Gently he shifted her head until no longer putting pressure on the bruise. "You don't call this broken?" he asked her only partly facetiously. She sure as hell looked broken to him.

"Nah. Just banged up a bit."

On those words the door swung opened and Claire entered followed by Hobbes, each had files in their hands and she frowned the instant she locked eyes on him in the bed where he knew he shouldn't be. "You're both awake, good."

"We got questions, kid, and only you have the answers," Bobby stated seeming unsurprised to find Darien curled up with Alyx.

"No tag teaming, I'm having enough trouble focusing," Alyx grumbled at them, making Darien laugh softly.

"She's a bit fuzzy, but mostly coherent," he told them, easing the worry lines that had appeared on Claire's forehead. "Though she has mentioned the current level of pain meds isn't doing much."

Claire nodded and walked over to the IV line and made some adjustments to the drip speed. "You're adapting, as usual. I'll have the new version brought over by Kat later today. You'll just have to manage until then."

Alyx grunted in agreement. "Sometimes being me sucks. So who wants to go first?"

"I do," Claire got out before Bobby could even open his mouth. "Doctor's privilege. Aren't you uncomfortable?" she asked, as she drew the stethoscope from around her neck.

Alyx shook her head. "Nope, he's just what I needed."

Darien smiled to himself, a happy little sigh escaping. He liked being needed and her actually admitting it out loud where other humans could hear it.

Hobbes snorted. "Too bony for my taste."

Darien opened his mouth to say something, but Claire held up her hand. "No, we are not going there today. Imagine how Alyx would feel should you make her start laughing."

Darien could, knowing it would hurt like hell given the cracked ribs and hastily stitched together hole in her side, but even with that, he was tempted. "I'll behave, but we'll revisit this conversation someday and I ain't holding back then."

"Agreed. Now hush so I can examine her." Claire slid the diaphragm under the hospital gown to listen to Alyx's heart. "Sit up, please."

With Darien's assistance and some poorly swallowed groans of serious pain, Alyx sat up. Claire listened to Alyx's lungs, having her take in the deepest breaths she could manage with the bandages holding her ribs in place. After all this time only Bobby still played shy, and averted his eyes, as Claire shifted the gown aside to carefully move the bandage and examine the surgical scar. "Very good, you're healing as well as ever. I want you to remain here overnight and if you are doing as well as you usually are, we'll move you to Lab Two at the Agency tomorrow afternoon."

"Why not sooner?" Darien asked. His guess had been correct, but was curious as to the Keeper's logic.

"In the event something happens, such as an unexpected bleeder, I'd rather she... you were closer to a surgical team. We'll do an MRI tomorrow..."

Alyx groaned, carefully lying back down on Darien.

"You'll be out for it, I promise," Claire assured her, "and we'll go from there."

Alyx hated MRIs. The magnetic field generated by the machine totally screwed up and interfered with her energy ability, usually resulting in pain. They worked, and could take nifty pictures of Alyx on the inside, but she rarely went into one willingly.

"All right," Alyx agreed, "If it'll get me outta here that much sooner, I'll do it. Now what's up, Bobby? You have that bad news look on your face."

Bobby gave her a grim smile. "Ain't got much else, kid, unless you've started remembering..." he left the statement hanging, clearly hoping she'd fill in the blanks for him.

"I..." She tipped her head to the side, a clear sign she was digging through her memories for what had happened. Darien torn about how he wanted this to end. "No, damn it."

"What _do_ you remember?" Darien asked, hands running lightly up and down her arms. "Don't push, just the clear bits." He met Claire's worried gaze, with his own. The good Keeper was just as concerned as he about Alyx suddenly regaining her memory.

Alyx grasped Darien's hand, entwining their fingers as much as able with the cast in the way. "I was having lunch with Lenny. Which I'm sure y'all figured out."

The higher dose of drugs had clearly kicked in as she usually tried not to let her adopted southern accent make an appearance. It usually showed up when she was very tired or heavily medicated. Now Lenny was an unusual situation in Hobbes' opinion. Leonardo Facinelli, a local mobster who had stepped into the vacuum left by the arrest of Johnny "Books" Castagnacci. An arrest made by the Agency when good ol' Liz Morgan had come storming back into his life. Lenny and Alyx had crossed paths on a job about eight months ago and they had come to a mutually beneficial arrangement. For a mobster he was an okay guy, running it like a business and staying out of some of the nastier corners, no drugs, no gun running - though his people were definitely equipped with top of the line weaponry - no pimps or human trafficking. Nope, he stayed with the tried and true extortion, protection rackets, and bookmaking. Yeah, there was plenty of money laundering going on, but he kept his nose clean and did his best to not draw the Feds attention. He and Alyx were very useful to each other. He had what looked like a Fed on his payroll and she had what looked like a mobster on hers. Both statements were accurate to a point, but only to a point. They got together about once a month for lunch and to trade info.

"You go in the VIP entrance?" Bobby may not strictly approve of the relationship, but he knew how damn useful it was, so only kept a watchful eye on the situation and gave advice when he felt it was warranted.

"A'course. Private parking lot and all. Same ol', same ol'. Meeting went fine. Had the Eggplant Parmesan. Lovely red wine. Left a couple hours later." She gave Darien's fingers a squeeze. "I remember walking out the back door heading for my car then... then..."

"It's all right, Alyx. Don't try to force it." Claire was at her side, fingers on Alyx's wrist as if checking her pulse, which wasn't needed as the quiet beeping of the heart monitor hadn't changed at all.

"All I can remember is a sharp pain in my side then... nothing until the emergency room." Alyx shifted, trying to sit up and Claire supported her as she did so. "I've this weird... echo is the only thing I can think of." She twisted cautiously to look at Darien. "I think it's from the blow to the head, but there's no faces, no voices, just a blank screen."

"S'okay, baby. It'll come back eventually." He regretted the words almost as soon as they had escaped past his lips.

"Kid, is there anything else you remember. Anyone you saw walking into Lenny's, not necessarily his people. It's looking like this was planned, so they had to be nearby." Bobby had this earnest yet worried look on his face and Darien was betting he held in his hand the police reports. There was a reason he was leading Alyx down this particular path, but Darien could only wonder why.

"Uh... maybe?" She shifted and Darien set a gentle hand on her back, the gown partially open and permitting him to see the multicolored bruises and scrapes on her back above the pressure bandage holding her insides together. A reminder of what had been done to her. For an instant red rage splashed across his senses, wanting to pound the snot out of the few survivors of the attack, but he locked it down before he'd done more than momentarily tense up. Still that flash had been enough for Alyx to pick up and she drunkenly turned about to look at him.

"D? You okay?" She blinked blearily at him, clearly having trouble focusing.

Claire must have caught something on his face. "Up, you. She needs to lie down."

Darien ducked his head. "Yes, Keep." He slid off the bed and back into the chair, leaving the rail down so he could be in contact with her, though if the glare from Claire were any indication he might want to refrain from touching skin on skin as a precaution. Luckily Alyx was so drugged the incoming signals were as fuzzy as she was. So she may have figured out he was upset, but not the details of why. He planned to keep it that way or Claire would boot him out and not allow him to return.

She lay down, the head of the bed raised so that she could see about with ease. "There were some gang-bangers hanging outside of the convenience store. Mom's, I think it's called. It's part of the Kings territory. Family runs the store. Lenny has an uneasy truce with them. They stay on their side of the street, he stays on his." She turned to Darien. "Drink, please."

He assisted her with the cup and straw combo again, setting it back on the rolling table when she signaled she'd had enough. "Anything else?"

She cautiously shook her head. "That's the only thing of significance I can remember. I wasn't followed and there was no one in the alley when I left." She scratched the back of her good hand with the uncoordinated one. "I know it doesn't make any sense, but as far as I can recall there wasn't anyone near me when I was attacked."

Bobby nodded in resignation. "They knew you were coming and planned accordingly. Even you can be tricked, or so Fawkes here says." He hooked a thumb at his partner.

Alyx nodded. "I can, but it takes some serious training. I can't imagine why anyone besides Changeling would go to all the effort. Easier to just shoot me from a distance. I'd never see it coming and be dead before I heard the report."

Scary but true and the risk they ran every day they walked outside. It was little wonder one Bobby Hobbes, secret agent extraordinaire, was so paranoid. "Maybe they didn't want you dead, just... hurt," Darien suggested, knowing it had happened before.

"The SWRB's?" Bobby pondered that for a moment. "Last time they went after _you_ to get to her. I suppose this could have been a grab gone wrong, but it doesn't feel like it." Leaving unsaid the reality of why would they go through the trouble to rape her. The SWRB weren't likely to hire lowlifes who'd decide to go off book on a job. Probably. Who really knew with nut jobs like them.

Just then the door opened and a male nurse walked in, rolling a mayo cart before him. He wore plain blue scrubs and the standard white shoes, but had a crew-cut that screamed military to Darien's eyes. Brown hair, brown eyes, nothing special from what he could see. Alyx, however, apparently had a different opinion, though not one she voiced aloud.

Instead, Alyx froze, her fingers digging into the sheets convulsively. Claire greeted the man, but Darien noted him only peripherally, watching Alyx who had gone still and silent, even as the heart rate monitor proceeded to spike, the lines doubling their speed across the little screen. She watched the man as he walked about the room, made notes on the chart, took her temperature, during which she closed her eyes and swallowed visibly, then swapped out the nearly empty IV bag for a new one. Just regular saline or what have you from what Darien could tell, but necessary fluids for anyone with Alyx's injuries. Claire seemed to find nothing wrong and spoke softly with the man before he left the room. He certainly wasn't the first nurse to stop by and do the routine with Alyx, but her reaction was completely odd. She didn't relax until he had left the room.

Maybe she remembered more than they thought, the nurse had been male after all and the only others he had seen in the room had been female. It made sense. Why wouldn't she be... twitchy around unfamiliar men after what she had been through, even if she had no conscious memory of the incident. Her heart rate slowly returned to normal as he watched, seeming to indicate he was on the right track. Something about that nurse had set her off and there could be only one logical conclusion given what he knew. That didn't bode well for the memory staying buried any longer than necessary and given her unconscious reaction he wasn't looking forward to seeing her conscious one. Oh, this was just getting better and better.

Claire had quite plainly taken note of Alyx's unexpected reaction as well, giving her the once over and double-checking all the various wires and tubes before deciding all was well. "Alyx really needs to rest, so..."

"Going as fast as I can, Keepy," Bobby assured her, but tapping the file in his hand. "Cops said it was one of Lenny's guys, a Carmen Gionetti who found you and called it in."

"If you say so," Alyx told him. "He's a good guy for mob muscle, if that's what you're asking, and, no, I've never had any issues with him."

"Kid, they _are_ mobsters," Bobby reminded her. "His boys might see you as a threat-"

Alyx shook her head then pinched the bridge of her nose, blowing air out slowly. "Sorry, made me dizzy for a sec. Carmen would have beat the crap out of anyone who touched me, just 'cause I'm Lenny's 'pet Fed'."

Even Darien could hear the quotation marks around those last two words. "And take you out if Lenny said to, I'm betting."

Alyx nodded in agreement. "Yes, he would, but he'd do it properly, not rough me up for shits and giggles and fail to finish the job. No, this had nothing to do with Lenny other than happening outside his place," she assured them.

"In his place too," Bobby waved the file. "He owns the building where it went down."

She shrugged as much as her abused body would allow. "And? Maybe someone was hoping to pin the blame on him. I don't know, and until I do, I'll back Lenny and his people one hundred percent."

Hobbes gave her a stiff nod. "I figured. Just needed to find out where you stood."

Alyx sighed, shifting in a clearly vain effort to get more comfortable. "I know, Bobby. Sorry for being snippy, I'm not used to being the victim in one of our... your investigations. I wanna be out there finding the bastards, not playing damsel in distress, y'know?"

Bobby chuckled. "I know, kid, but on this occasion let us handle it. You just work on getting better."

She stuck out her tongue and gave him a pitiful raspberry, not able to drum up enough energy to make a real effort. "This lying around thing sucks."

"But is absolutely necessary," Claire stated in her best no-nonsense doctor tone. "Your only job is to heal, Doctor's and the Official's orders."

Alyx huffed and turned to Darien. "I'm gonna go stir crazy."

"Not a chance, sweet thing. Claire'll dope you up so much all you'll want to do is sleep." Darien set a hand on her arm, getting a head full of exactly how much she needed that sleep right now. "Me'n Hobbes are gonna head out and have a chat with Lenny, and probably check out the scene, see if the cops missed anything. I'll be back later." He glanced over at Claire who nodded. Even she knew Alyx would be calmer and probably heal faster if Darien were nearby, and he would be, every moment he could spare from looking for her attackers.

She raised his hand and kissed the back of it, making him swallow a sigh of pleasure. "All right, I'll behave... for now."

"That's my girl," Darien said around a grin.

"Off with you," Claire waved her file at the door, a clear order to make haste and leave Alyx alone.

"Yes, ma'am." Hobbes ducked his head as Claire mock swung at him and scooted for the door. "C'mon, Fawkes, daylight's a'wasting and we've got things to do."

"Things to _be_, people to _do_, Hobbesy. You always get that baskasswards." Alyx chortled then regretted it instantly as her ribs surely complained viciously. "Ow," she squeaked, hand going to her side in response.

Claire shook her head, but the smile gave away her amusement. "That's what you get for not following orders. Just for that I'm going to hunt up some bland and tasteless food for you to eat."

Alyx rolled her eyes and turned to Darien. "Save me?"

He laughed softly. "Later. I'll bring a cheeseburger."

"Woot," she cheered, then sobered. "Be careful, both of you. I got a bad feeling about this."

Bobby looked at Darien who'd said the same thing the night before when Alyx had been brought in. "We'll be fine." He leaned over and kissed her on the forehead then backed away and out the door Bobby held open for him. Kingsley stood outside said door, gun in full view and quite obviously on alert. He wasn't about to let anything happen to Alyx on his watch.


	6. Chapter 6

Bobby had clearly memorized his way through the maze of hallways and exited out a side door next to a park-like area, on the far side of which was a parking lot, where presumably the van awaited them. "How bad?" Darien asked. Holding that question in had taken major effort, and he'd waited until outside on the off chance Alyx might pick up the sure to be volatile emotions that the answer would inevitably bring.

Hobbes shoulders slumped and his steps slowed dramatically. "Bad. There were a dozen of them, and only three survived. I plan to interview them, but none of them are fit to do so yet. Whatever she did, and I'm not saying they didn't deserve it, she did it thoroughly."

Which is what Darien feared after being told most of them hadn't survived. Alyx clearly didn't remember any of it and he could only wonder if her mind was indeed sheltering her from the memories, if it was the rape or her response that it was hiding. The rape would be bad enough, horrible to put it mildly, but killing her attackers, most likely with her mind, her own probably crawling through theirs and recording every thought and emotion as she did...whatever it was that she did that... that would damage her beyond measure. She hated that darker side, fought every day to keep the more volatile aspects of her personality under strict control, to have failed and failed utterly no matter how justified... it was little wonder she'd made herself forget.

"You want the details?" Hobbes asked holding up the file.

Darien shook his head. "No, don't want to risk Alyx picking it up from me. What I don't know can't hurt her." He gave Bobby a weak smile. "Besides those are just the prelims, right? No way they've done detailed autopsies yet."

"Right, but even these are scary reading, my friend." Bobby got back into motion heading across the grass for the parking lot. "Most of them have been identified and they're all gang members."

"The Kings," Darien guessed.

"Some of 'em. Got five different gangs here. Most of them smaller ones, and across the whole spectrum. Blacks, Whites, Mexicans, even some Asian. Which is damn strange as these groups generally don't work together." Bobby paused, scratching the top of his head. "These guys are usually trying to kill each other over petty shit or territory, it don't make sense, them working together."

"And why target Alyx?" Darien mused. "Maybe this does involve Lenny and he doesn't realize it. Take down his pet Fed as a prelude to move in on his territory?" It wasn't all that farfetched a suggestion. "All the small groups get together, take out the big mobster and divvy up his territory afterwards." It did make some logical sense, except for the various gangs managing to ignore their personal hostilities long enough to work together to first come up with and then execute the plan.

"Yeah, does make sense, but it don't feel right." Bobby met Darien's eyes squarely. "Does it?"

Darien shook his head as Bobby pressed the button on the keyring to unlock the van doors. "No, it doesn't, but we should talk to Lenny first. It's his home ground, maybe he's heard something that could help us."

"You really think he'll spill to us?" Bobby asked as he slid into the driver's seat.

"For Alyx, I think he'd give us muscle to help hold down the bastard that did this." Darien wasn't kidding, based on what she had discussed about the mobster over the months, he'd do just about anything for Alyx, and she for him. Yes, there was a definite line drawn with the Fed/crook opposition, but once Alyx deemed you worthy, and so long as you stayed that way in her eyes, there was little she wouldn't do for you, as Darien well knew.

Hobbes snorted. "I think you're probably right." He started the van and backed out of the spot. This back lot was a maze in its own right, but Hobbes had clearly mastered the convoluted route needed to get back to the main gate and the highway. In no time at all, they were back on the road and headed towards downtown. This was looking to be a mess all the way around.

Darien was pretty certain Alyx had never really tangled with any gangs, much less the Kings except for the occasional gun running bust done by the Agency. It was possible she'd crossed paths with gangs while on assignments for other agencies, especially the ATF, but the ones involved in this mess were all local and not likely to have been someone she'd've encountered while in, say, Korea. The Agency usually left the gang control to the local cops as the petty ante trouble they stirred up tended to be minor in comparison to oh, saving the world. Chrysalis made the Kings look laughable when push came to shove, so why in heaven's name would they go after Alyx? Even assuming a target of opportunity going after her made no sense. It was doubtful she carried anything of value on her when she went to visit Lenny, she rarely wore a gun or badge on those visits, so it wasn't likely she'd done so this time. No need to advertise her, in the eyes of other law enforcement agencies, potentially compromising relationship with one of the top mobsters in SoCal.

"Fawkes, my friend, she's gonna be all right," Bobby said quietly, glancing quickly over at his partner before turning his full attention back to the crazy downtown traffic.

Darien ran a hand through his hair. "Do we keep saying that just to try and convince ourselves or do you really believe that?"

Bobby grunted as if kicked. "The former, at least for now. None of this is making a lick'a sense. I'm hoping checking out the crime scene will give us a direction to go in, 'cause I'm feeling like a weathervane in a tornado right about now."

"Dude, you gotta stop watching those specials on the weather channel, even if the metaphor was pretty good." Darien shook his head in wry amusement.

"What? A little knowledge never hurt no one."

"Oh really, Mister-retro-virus-made-me-super-smart-and-almost-killed-me," Darien came back with quickly, his tone both serious and amused.

"Okay, smartass, point taken," Hobbes said with a chuckle. "Still, we need info, info that makes sense."

"Thus going to Lenny's place," Darien pointed out. "And maybe check out Mom's across the street?"

"Now, you're thinking. The kid noticed them for a reason, even if she don't know the why of it. Might not be a bad idea to check it out." Hobbes pulled onto the street that ran behind Lenny's restaurant, where the VIP parking lot was located and cruised on past, making note of the location of Mom's convenience store and the collection of hoodlums hanging about on the stoop. There were less than a dozen, but the ethnicity ranged across the board, black, Asian, Latino of various types, just as Alyx had recalled. Very strange if the place was run by the Kings, one of the larger black gangs in the area. Taking the next left, he pulled into the main parking lot for In Vino Veritas, the restaurant that was also the home base for Lenny's current activities. He liked tradition, that's for certain. Alyx had mentioned the man was old school all the way, very big on family and trust and the whole shebang, which apparently made the man very easy for her to manipulate. They pulled in and were stopped by an attendant. A flash of Hobbes' badge got them waved in and directed over to one side, where there were several empty spots.

"Reserved parking for cops?" Hobbes mused, clearly at a loss at the seeming special treatment.

"Don't ask me, never been here before. Everything I know about Lenny comes through Alyx and the file we have on him," Darien answered, getting a look of surprise from his partner. "What? Alyx was hanging out with the local mob boss, of course I checked him out."

Hobbes shut off the engine. "I'm impressed. Seriously. You usually can't be bothered crack open a file on an existing case and you went and looked in one voluntarily. It must be love."

Darien shook his head grinning. "Concern for my partner. I'd do the same for you."

"Like I said, love." Hobbes climbed out of the van and Darien followed, both of them walking to the front door of the Italian eatery under the watchful eyes of half a dozen guards. Oh, they were pretty good, none of them looked the part, but Darien had had plenty of experience spotting undercover security long before joining the Agency and had gotten miles better since then. They were allowed to enter unmolested, but when being asked if they had a reservation by the pretty, and armed, brunette at the hostess stand, the obvious muscle moved in.

"Can I help you gentlemen?" he asked with false politeness as he adjusted his sport coat just right so that the bulge of a handgun in a shoulder holster could be easily seen.

"Hoping so." Bobby pulled out his badge. "We'd like to talk to Mr. Facinelli about the incident that took place yesterday."

The muscle looked over the badge and sneered, "Why is Fish and Game interested in an assault and battery?"

"Because the assaultee was their partner, I'm willing to bet."

The owner of the smoothly spoken words appeared with a matched set of mob muscle following behind. He looked like he'd stepped off the front cover of GQ, wearing a perfectly fitted suit that probably cost more than Darien made in a year... legally made, that was, as he had more than a bit stashed away from various after-hours activities. His voice was cultured and crisp, not the usual deep Italian via Brooklyn accent that one would expect after years of movie and television stereotyping. In his mid-forties at a guess, he landed somewhere between Hobbes' less-that-stellar height and his own. Dark, almost black hair and eyes the color of newly printed money, which was oddly apropos in Darien's opinion. He'd seen the photos in the file, of course, but they failed to do the man justice as he radiated a presence that could not be denied. Alyx was right, at first blush, Leonardo Facinelli was a good egg. Not that he was the least bit surprised to confirm Alyx's character assessment.

Lenny held out his hand to be shaken. "How is Miss Silver?" he asked as Darien grasped the man's hand in a firm and only slightly competitive grip.

"Kid's been better," Bobby answered as he took his turn.

"Kid?" Lenny echoed with a look of confusion.

Darien shrugged. " 'Cause she looks so damn young," he answered. "Is there someplace we can talk?"

"Of course." He gestured towards the back of the restaurant. "Should I have Carmen join us?"

"He the one who called it in?" Bobby asked and Lenny nodded. "Better, we'll have some questions for him too."

Lenny glanced over at one of his bookends, who gave a quick nod and trotted off to find Carmen. Once comfortably seated at table in the back away from the patrons - he'd allowed Bobby to choose the first seat; the paranoid agent taking one that allowed him to see all the entry ways and that put his back up against a blank wall, a mirror over the bar permitting him to see anything, or anyone behind him. Typical Bobby Hobbes. Darien took the seat to his left, leaving Bobby's right side where he carried his weapon free and unobstructed. Lenny seemed to know exactly why Bobby had chosen as he had, a tiny smile causing fine lines to appear about his eyes.

"Now, how can I help you?"

"Hoping you can fill in some of the blanks. The kid... Alyx took a blow to the head and doesn't remember anything," Hobbes explained. "Any chance you have surveillance outside your VIP entrance?"

Lenny spread his hands. "Now what kind of host would I be if I recorded the movements of our most valued guests?"

"A smart one?" Darien suggested, certain the tapes existed, in high quality color and not some crappy low rez black and white. "Any opportunity for blackmail." Darien shrugged at the narrowing of the eyes his partner gave him. "What? It's what I would do."

Lenny chuckled. "Very perceptive. I am willing to assist, of course, and will supply you with copies of the relevant times, however..."

"Anyone not involved won't be there," Bobby assured him. "We just want to catch who did this to the kid."

"Didn't the SDPD ask for the tapes?" Darien questioned, not believing the local cops were really _that_ stupid.

"They did, but for them they don't exist," Lenny told them, voice bland.

"Ah," Darien said with a nod. "Got it." He turned to Hobbes, "It does mean anything juicy we can't use as evidence."

"We'll manage. Right now, we're up against a brick wall. I'll take any sledgehammer I can find."

Darien really had to convince Bobby to stop with the metaphors, or teach him how to use them properly. "Mr. Facinelli-"

"Lenny," he corrected. "Unless you have some concern my relationship with... your partner will affect your standing in the government."

Hobbes shook his head. "That is the last thing we're worried about... Lenny."

"Excellent. Let the corruption begin," Lenny said, an irrepressible grin lighting up his features.

Darien felt pretty certain that Lenny didn't really consider it a joke, though there was that added dash of humor to keep the two feds from spooking. He'd be more than happy to have a couple more agents, agents of a similar caliber to Alyx, in his pocket even if only in the eyes of his competitors. The man was good, Darien had to give him that. Just their coming here and walking away unharmed would up Lenny's status. But why would he need that? Could someone actually be moving in on his territory as they had speculated during the ride over? Might it actually be someone more dangerous than some upstart gang-bangers? New world versus old? That would make for one hell of a war in the streets of San Diego. A war Darien would much rather see stopped in it's tracks here and now.

"Who is moving in on you?" Darien asked, not really surprised at the sudden lack of joviality in Lenny's eyes though the smile remained precisely in place.

"If I knew that they wouldn't be trying any longer, would they?" Lenny answered frankly, surprising both agents with his candor.

"You think they went after the kid to get to you?" Hobbes volunteered to fall upon that particular sword.

Lenny tapped a manicured finger on the tabletop. "Let's just say I have some concerns in that direction, but do not know for certain."

Hobbes turned to Darien, a grim look on his face. "How long ago did this push start?" Darien asked, wondering exactly how long Alyx had been a target thanks to this man.

"Six weeks ago we noticed changes in the local gang structure. It began with the Kings, whose territory abuts my own, and has spread from there... But I have the feeling you know all this." Lenny met each of their eyes in turn until Darien finally nodded. "I take it Alyx's attackers were made up of various gangs?"

"Yes," Hobbes told him, "and we're wondering if the real target was you."

"Me or my... business?"

"There's a difference? Take you or the business out and the other one is lost, so..."

"True enough, as you should well know having dealt with Mr. Castignacci personally."

Darien winced and muttered, "Why is it everyone remembers me doing one lousy job for Johnny Books?"

Lenny shook his head and chuckled. "I wasn't referring to that job you did for him, but the fact that you helped arrest him."

Darien knew his eyes had widened in shock and surprise, but couldn't stop the reaction before it had occurred. "Huh. Alyx tell you about that?"

"No," Lenny answered, clearly not about to elaborate. "Ah, here's Carmen now."

"Boss," Carmen said with a nod before taking a seat across from Darien. "How's Red?" he asked, looking straight at Darien.

"Red? Oh, the kid; the red hair and all. She's... she'll live, but is out of commission for a while." Bobby settled back into his chair, not to get comfortable, but to shift his view in the mirror from what Darien could tell. Even knowing Alyx was a friend to these guys did not ease his paranoia one whit.

"Damn it," Carmen growled, quite obviously unhappy about what had happened, though Darien could only wonder why.

"Now Carmen, it is not your fault. You know how stubborn Miss Silver is," Lenny reassured his man. He turned to the two agents who both had matching looks of utter confusion on their faces. "It's Carmen's job to escort our VIPs back to their cars, to insure their safety, Miss Silver always refuses."

"But you followed after her anyway," Hobbes observed.

Carmen shook his head. "Not then, I always head back to watch the security monitors, just in case. She's stubborn, but," he shrugged, "shit happens."

"It does indeed," Hobbes agreed. "So what did you see?"

"That's just it, nothing. She wasn't on the screen at all, never showed up by her car. By the time I made it outside she was gone. I searched for her, since her car was still in the lot; after about ten minutes I heard the screams... Male screams. A few minutes later she staggered out of the building next door, wearing not much more than her shirt, covered in blood and scrapes." He stuttered to a halt, Darien surprised that the man actually sounded upset, almost as if he actually cared about Alyx. He might, or he might just care that he'd failed in his duty, especially if said duty was to keep her safe on the orders of his boss Lenny. "I could tell she'd been hurt pretty bad, but it looked like most of the blood wasn't hers. I radioed for help and went to her. She had no idea who I was at first and... and..." He stopped the look in his eyes one Darien had seen a time or two before when Alyx had been at her scariest and most out of control.

"And what?" Hobbes prompted.

"I thought she was gonna kill me," he whispered, voice hoarse, "but then she blinked and just collapsed. By the time the EMTs showed up she was completely incoherent, couldn't focus her eyes, had no idea who we were or what was going on." He glanced over at his boss who nodded for him to continue. "I saw some of the... bodies when they were brought out." His voice dropped, so that Darien had to strain to hear him. "She broke them." He shook his head, as if trying to toss off the memory the way a dog tosses water off its back. "Boss had me escort her to the hospital; no way we were leaving her alone a second time. I stayed until your Agent Drake and two other agents arrived."

"So the video was looped? Who has access?" Darien was an old hand with looping video cameras, but was mildly surprised that Lenny's guys had fallen for it.

Lenny shook his head. "Not possible, not the way the system is set up. To loop the video you'd have to hack it, since none of the cameras were physically touched."

"Yes, possible, you'd just have to be damn good... or on the inside," Hobbes pointed out.

Darien saw the tightening of Lenny's jaw and heard the sharp intake of breath from the muscle standing behind him. A raised hand calmed the mook right down.

"If, and I stress _if_, it was my people I will make certain it is taken care of." The black tone to Lenny's voice gave lie to exactly how said miscreant would be dealt with _after_ a recorded confession Darien was quite sure. "Though it does mean there will probably be nothing useful on the tapes you've requested."

"Which is why you agreed to let us have them," Bobby couldn't resist pointing out. "We want to check out the crime scene."

Lenny got to his feet, the chair moving smoothly and silently across the tile floor. "Of course, Carmen will be more than happy to accompany you and make certain that you remain unmolested."

Darien jumped on those words. "So you _are_ having problems."

"Always, but I have the feeling Alyx's definitive statement will send the same message I've been attempting to, if without the subtlety. I only wish to make certain any retaliation does not occur when guests are present," Lenny explained, for the first time sounding like the mob boss that he was. He'd do anything necessary, take advantage of any opportunity, if he could work it in his favor. Darien couldn't exactly complain, as he'd do the same if he were in Lenny's place. He just disliked the fact it was Alyx the mobster was using this time around.

"We'd appreciate the escort," Hobbes said with a nod, probably wanting to question the mook some more out of the purview of his boss. Bobby Hobbes would work every angle he could as well, and without Lenny breathing down his neck the mook might open up a bit more.

"Done," Lenny agreed instantly, "we'll have you on camera as well, though we'll lose you once in the other building. It's been stripped down for renovations and I've not had new security installed yet. Next week is the soonest." He bowed his head, a momentary look of guilt washing across his features. "I thought it was unnecessary as there's nothing of value inside right now, construction doesn't begin until next month."

Darien didn't know what to say, he'd thought Alyx was little more than a useful pawn to the mob boss, but based on the man's quite real emotions, he cared about Alyx, though he might still use her as no more than that proverbial chess piece. "Lenny, even if you were the ultimate target, which has yet to be seen, it wasn't your fault. Alyx is a big girl and well able to take care of herself. Someone went to a lot of effort to get to her and lost quite few people to do it."

Lenny nodded, a soft sigh escaping past his lips. "My property, my responsibility." He spread his hands in an obvious request for understanding. "You will have whatever assistance you need to catch the orchestrator of this, just ask."

Darien with total honesty in his voice, said, "Thank you. We'll give you a heads up if you are the target."

"Fawkes," Hobbes squawked.

"Hobbes. He's risking a hell of a lot to give us access, the least we can do is return the favor." Bobby frowned deeply so Darien brought out the big guns. "Alyx would want us to."

Bobby closed his eyes for a long moment then nodded. "All right." He looked across the table at Lenny. "My partner here is right, if it's info we can give you we will."

Lenny nodded solemnly, as if realizing how difficult that decision had been for Hobbes, and it had been, and Darien knew he'd be hearing about it later.

"See, the corruption is moving along smoothly."

Darien snickered, not able to disagree. "So long as the corruption is mutual."

Lenny laughed. "Of course, I wouldn't have it any other way." He gestured towards the side of the room. "Now, please, we both have work to do. Carmen will show you the locations and make sure you have those files before you leave. Just... Let me know if she's all right, please?"

The please was sincere and Darien could only nod mutely. Lenny then excused himself, the muscle following along behind, heading off to do whatever mob bosses do in the middle of the afternoon. Darien's stomach growled then, reminding him that it had been quite a while since anything of value had been scarfed down.

Carmen blinked. "Was that you?"

Darien ducked his head sheepishly. "Yeah, sorry."

"Not a problem. You like ravioli?"

Darien turned to face the man, noting that, while he had the build of a linebacker, he wasn't over muscled and could probably move a lot faster than one would think. "Yeah, why?"

Carmen waved a hand and a waitress magically appeared at his side. "Ravioli for two, with the works." He paused to look at the two agents. "Red wine, the boss' private stock, have it ready to go in twenty." The girl nodded and trotted off, the gentle sway of her hips quite a nice view.

"Carmen, we can't accept-" Hobbes tried, only to be cut off.

"You can and you will. Save the wine for later when you're off duty, I have a feeling you're both going to need it after the day you've had." Carmen rubbed the top of his head, making the short hair stand up momentarily. "Red is good people and you need to eat if you're gonna find who ordered this."

The logic of the man was impeccable and Hobbes nodded in acknowledgment. Yeah, maybe it might look like a bribe from a mobster, but in Darien's mind, he was a concerned friend looking out for those who could get the job done. "Thanks," he told the mobster in all sincerity. "So you don't think these gang bangers came up with this on their own?"

Carmen shook his head. "Not a chance. Oh, I could see them grabbing some random chick and gang raping her in a heartbeat, but Red was not random. She was grabbed to send a message, I'm just not sure the message was for my boss," Carmen told them candidly, revealing there were actual brains behind the muscle.

"Who else could it be for?" Hobbes asked in honest curiosity.

Carmen turned to face Darien. "You."

"Me?" Darien repeated, more confused that anything by the statement. "Aside from the nightly news, I've never had run-ins with any of these gangs, even in my... previous profession." Very true. He'd made a point of staying as far away from gangs, both in and out of prison, as possible. Most thieves did, even those that hired out on occasion. Getting involved with gangs or the mob could get one very dead very quickly, as Darien's short lived association with Johnny Books proved.

Carmen smiled grimly. "The gangs don't give a flying fuck who you are, but the guy running the show... He might."

"He?" Hobbes repeated. "You know who it is?"

Carmen shook his head. "The boss would've eliminated the problem if he knew. _He_ in the generic sense of the word, could be some dame you've pissed off in a past life for all I know."

"Yet you think your boss isn't the target." Hobbes pushed, wanting every bit of information he could pry out of the man.

"It's just a feeling . I've been in the biz for a while, and this ain't how the game is typically played, even if the rules have changed over the years." Carmen was being amazingly candid, and it had to be on Lenny's orders, no way the man would risk his place in the hierarchy, or his life, over a fed no matter how cute.


	7. Chapter 7

Carmen led them to the VIP door and held it open for them. This wasn't some cheap side entrance for employees to come and go without being seen by the patrons. The double doors were wood over steel with expensive glass insets that Darien would be willing to bet were bullet proof, the interior even more luxurious than the front, public entrance, and though the exterior was technically an alley, it was meticulously clean. The door was well lit, if unmarked, plants and tiny decorative al fresco tables set to either side. The alley was wide enough to drive semi down with room to spare and utterly failed to smell like old garbage and stale urine. Clearly, the homeless of the great city of San Diego knew better than to hang around here.

Darien gazed about, checking the area out and spotted three cameras off the bat, and suspected there were several more he couldn't see. Carmen stayed in the doorway, standing at the mob version of military parade rest, looking uncomfortable. Darien ignored him for now, checking the place over with the detailed eye of an experienced thief-cum-secret-agent. Six feet down one end of the alley he could see the VIP parking lot.

"Is Alyx's car still here?" he wondered aloud.

Carmen cleared his throat. "Actually, no. We had it delivered to her place. Her keys should be with her belongings, so either the hospital or SDPD has them."

"You hot wired her car?" Hobbes asked, eyebrows raised. "She ain't gonna like that."

Carmen sniffed. "Not hot wired, we can do better than that."

Darien laughed softly. "Thanks, man. She'd freak if something happened to that car."

Carmen nodded in agreement. "I am well aware. They had to have grabbed her somewhere along here. The entrance they used to the building next door is on the same side as the VIP lot."

"And Mom's," Hobbes muttered, "which means they'd know all the camera angles on that side at least."

"They'd've scoped out the building before using it. With no security they could've done that anytime since it was stripped." Darien paced slowly about trying to think as Alyx would have. Leaving Lenny's to head to her car, she would have been wary, but no more alert than usual. She'd said that she'd sensed no one as she left. Returning to the door, Darien shortened his stride to one closer to Alyx's. Recalling her muzzy recollection, he stopped just past the table, where she probably would have been when that remembered sharp pain in her side had hit. A pain, he now realized had probably been whatever had left that splinter of wood buried in her side. Emulating her probable reaction, which would be to swipe at her side and knock it away, he swung his left arm along his side, realizing quickly that the angle was wrong. Turning slightly, as if looking over his left shoulder, his torso twisted just enough for the angle to be right.

"Hobbes, it came from behind her." Darien turned about to look at the opposite end of the alley, a mere ten feet away, ending at the open sidewalk, with cars occasionally zipping past on the tiny side street. "Something caught her attention and she turned just enough to get hit in the side."

"And while she was dealing with that someone came from the other end and whacked her upside the head." Hobbes added with a frown. "But why didn't she fight back?"

Darien moved to the table, going over it with care, the scent of fingerprint powder still lingering on the black painted wrought iron.

"Cops checked over everything yesterday. There's nothing left to find," Carmen told them, sounding unhappy at the conclusions they had drawn so far.

Darien had moved on to the plant, some flowering bit of greenery Alyx would know the name of without having to think more than a few seconds. After a few moments he noted an odd color buried within the green leaves and red flowers, something blue. He had to admit it was practically invisible; the blue only a shade or two off from the dark green leaves it was buried in. "Not everything," he said, waving Bobby over to see for himself.

From out of a pocket, he magically produced a latex glove and, through the foliage Darien held aside, Bobby withdrew what looked like a frill pick, like the kind you got in a sandwich at a deli. Only this one had feathers at one end instead of plastic bits, and had been splintered at the other, as if it had been violently snapped in half. It was incredibly thin, much as the piece pulled out of Alyx's side, though a bit longer, maybe three or three and a half inches.

"Hobbes?"

"Blow dart from the looks of it."

Darien reached out to touch it, but Hobbes yanked it out of reach. "Watch it there, I'm betting it's poisoned or something. Would it explain why the kid went down so fast."

Darien gulped audibly and nodded tightly as Hobbes pulled an evidence bag from an inner pocket, shook it open and placed the dart inside, sealing it for the Keeper to play with later. "I'm not liking this, Bobby."

"Me either, my friend." He gestured at Carmen. "Lead on, Macduff."

"Actually, I prefer Romeo and Juliet to Macbeth." When Darien just stared at him, he shrugged. "Sadly, I am a romantic. This way, gentlemen."

He led them down the alley and to the right, the door easily visible; a standard entrance to a standard building. The place had been a mix of businesses and apartments once upon a time. The glass windowed business faces all street side, this was just a rear entrance allowing access to the storage areas or the upper levels. The elevators had 'out of order' signs on them and, based on the undisturbed dust, hadn't been used in quite some time. The stairs, however, had been used and recently. The trails of blood were everywhere, many smeared due to the foot traffic from the previous day. They headed up and after the first landing, but before they hit the second floor, they found a bloody handprint on the wall in Alyx's size that stopped Darien cold, one shaky hand coming up to his forehead as the reality of what had happened hit him. Maybe... maybe he shouldn't be here. Maybe he... no he was definitely too close to the situation, but if he walked away he'd have to walk away completely, which would mean not getting a chance to deal with the perpetrator personally. And that, more than anything else right now, he wanted. Wanted to be able to tell Alyx that the slime who had done this to her would never hurt her or anyone else _ever again_.

Crap, he wanted this over with, wanted to fast-forward through the research and questions and tests and investigating and get to the arresting and healing. To hold a well and whole Alyx in his arms and know they'd never have to worry about the son of a bitch who'd had this done to her again. Until the next time. In the last year alone, each of them had been hurt beyond measure because of the job. Attacks on each of them that had left permanent scars both physically and mentally. He wasn't sure if he could handle another one. This wasn't the life he'd wanted, and to now feel responsible for Alyx as well as himself? Right now, right this second it was too fucking much and the absolute need to walk away and never look back hit him with more force than he'd ever thought possible. But he didn't, and the moment passed unacknowledged except for that momentary longing. It wouldn't be the last time that he'd want to walk away, but this particular chance, this crossroad, would be left behind, nothing more than another path not taken. One of so very many in his life.

"Fawkes..." Bobby looked at him with sympathy in every line of his body. This could be no easier for the hardened agent. It was his partner, his friend that had been attacked, and while he wasn't in love with the woman, he did care and loved her in his own way. He surely wanted to deal with these horrific realities no more than Darien, but Bobby remained stoic, keeping his feelings locked tightly inside, only to be revealed after a few drinks when this was all over. Drinks shared with Darien most likely, who could use the rough companionship to keep from breaking down completely.

Darien sighed heavily, meeting Bobby's eyes with ones he was certain were filled with anguish. "I can do this."

Hobbes nodded tightly then continued up the stairs, followed Carmen who had paused his ascent to wait on them. He seemed to understand Darien's sudden need to not deal with this, for which he was thankful. Looking weak in the eyes of a mobster was not typically conducive to one's continued health. On this occasion it might work to his benefit, making the man want to help all that much more if it got Alyx what she needed: answers.

They exited on the third floor, the stairwell door missing as it had been on every other landing. Lenny hadn't been kidding when he'd said the place had been stripped bare; all that remained were the four outside walls and the upright I-beams that supported the weight of the floors and the roof high above them. Most of the place was covered in a layer of dust through which dozens of footprints had been tracked, but off towards the center of the room was a splash of color: that color being the dark brown of dried blood. The crime scene tape was still wrapped about various beams, a huge circle of blood and dirt and damage. Holes punched in the floor and ceiling, one of the I-beams twisted into a warped spiral as if some violent force had passed nearby, while the others were simply bowed out, there were smears, and splotches in various bodily fluid shades all over the room, attesting to the violence of the battle that had taken place. Though the center contained the least amount of gore, suggesting that was where the... rape had taken place. The blood there would all belong to Alyx.

"Jesus," Hobbes muttered softly, that one word conveying the horror he must be feeling at the sight. "What happened here?"

Darien closed his eyes, his fertile imagination running wild. He could picture it, especially with the echoes she had shared with him. Her on her back, four of them holding her down, using their full weight to keep her struggles from throwing them off, the drugs in her system along with the blow to her head keeping her from focusing her sight never mind her powers long enough to get them off of her. The dry snap of her wrist breaking, the dull pop as she tore the ligaments in her knee. And then, when convinced there would be no chance at escape some part of her mind that had been patiently waiting in the shadows all this time waking up and dealing with the miscreants in an eminently permanent fashion. Maybe one of those latent programmed personalities taking over for a few precious moments. That wouldn't be so bad, but if it had been Alyx and just Alyx... it would break her as surely as they had tried to with brutality and sex. She was far more terrified of herself than any man no matter the type of violence perpetrated against her.

"I told you," Carmen said, voice painfully tight as he gazed about, eyes wide in shock, "she broke them." His hands tightened into fists at his side. "And they deserved it." He met Darien's eyes, his look challenging, knowing that as a cop Darien might very well look upon what Alyx had done with disgust.

Instead, Darien surprised him with a snarled, "Damn straight," and for one startling instant, the two opposing forces understood each other completely. The anger washed across him, catching him off-guard with the sheer force of it and causing an unexpected spike of adrenaline that he could in no way control. The problem was the spike also caused a totally normal response, for him anyway, the Quicksilver coming whether he wanted it to or not. Thankfully, though not able to stop it, he could control it. With an effort of will that had become instinctive after all this time, he kept the Quicksilver under his clothes, and invisible to the mob lackey just a few feet away. Revealing this little talent of his would be bad to put it mildly, as he'd probably find himself forcefully recruited by Lenny via blackmail, and while the pay was probably better working for the mob, the retirement plan was worse than that provided by the government.

He felt one cold trickle of Quicksilver run down the side of his face, and hoped liked hell it had gone unnoticed; Bobby's grunt informed him otherwise.

"Fawkes, got to ask a really stupid-sounding question: you okay?" The look Bobby gave him, said quite plainly that he'd seen the Quicksilver, a shimmer somewhere before he'd gotten it under control, and the worried tone let him know that whatever impulse that had caused it, he sympathized with. Darien wouldn't be berated for this slip-up, not in front of company, anyway.

Darien swallowed hard, enforcing his control until the spike wore off, and he could drop the Quicksilver without giving the game away. "Not really," he answered, voice hard through tightly grit teeth. "I think I've seen enough."

Hobbes nodded. "Me too."

Back in the stairwell, Carmen again taking the lead, Darien was able to let the Quicksilver flake away, the scuffing of shoes on the stairs more than covering the gentle chiming sound of it hitting the floor.

Outside Carmen sighed heavily. "I don't think I ever want to go in there again." He glanced up at the windows over his head, shuddering violently for an instant. "Red's not your typical fed, is she?'

Darien could hear the borderline fear in the man's voice and was both happy and dismayed that it was there. Happy because it meant the man would think twice before ever even contemplating lifting a hand against Alyx, dismayed because the last thing she needed was another friend who feared her.

"No, she's not and you might do well to remember that," Bobby informed the man, tone dark.

Carmen simply nodded, not about to argue or disagree at this moment in time. He led them back to the restaurant where that pretty waitress waited with their food, all packaged up and ready to go. There were even plastic wine glasses to go with the expensive-looking bottle. Not that Darien felt like eating right at this moment, but he thanked her anyway before she trotted away to her other patrons.

Darien found a convenient wall that needed holding up and let Bobby handle the goodbye proceedings. "If we have any more questions..."

"Just stop by, Boss' orders, we are to assist you in any way on this matter," Carmen assured them, but his double meaning didn't escape past Darien: on anything else they best go through channels.

The mook sent after the video appeared then and handed over a tiny something to Carmen, who thanked him quietly in obvious dismissal. He held up the small jump drive. "Everything we have is on there, hopefully there will be something of use to you."

Hobbes accepted it with a nod. "Me too. C'mon, Fawkes." Bobby headed towards the main entrance, with Darien trailing behind, hands full of their provided meal.

Carmen stopped him before he got far. "Agent Fawkes."

Darien turned about to find the man standing behind him. "Yeah?"

Carmen held up a business card. "If you ever need _anything_," he said, then tucked the card into Darien's jacket pocket.

Darien nodded tightly, aware of the many layers of implications to that offer. Yeah, it could just mean help catching the nut job who'd planned Alyx's attack, or it could be some of that corruption Lenny spoke of, an unsubtle job offer should Darien ever show interest in moving beyond the Agency. And that... that could mean they knew more about Darien than they should. That thought truly frightened Darien. If there was the slightest chance they knew the truth about him, knew why he was with the Agency, there could be some serious repercussions. He had to hope that this offer involved nothing more than Alyx and her value to Lenny, which Darien had the feeling was quite considerable.

Darien played it safe and simply said, "Thanks, man."

Carmen gave him a grim smile, then turned away, probably heading off to find his boss. Darien caught up with Bobby who had waited with surprising patience for his partner to finish up his conversation with the mobster.


	8. Chapter 8

They said nothing until in the van and several blocks away from the restaurant. "How many did you lose, Fawkes?"

Darien knew instantly what Bobby was referring to, pulled up his sleeve and took a gander at his wrist. "One, which brings me to three full. I'm fine."

Bobby nodded, his knuckles white on the steering wheel. "You hid it well, I'll say that much, but you need to be more careful in the future."

Darien didn't argue, given it was quite true. "Well, it wasn't like I planned it, y'know."

"I figured." Bobby carefully released his fingers from the wheel, the knuckles popping they'd been clenched so tightly. "What triggered it?"

"Anger," Darien told him seeing no reason to prevaricate.

Bobby sighed. "I was afraid of that." He made his way through the maze of streets at speed, blowing through yellows and around any vehicle moving slower than the van. He didn't stop until at the tiny park off Marina Park Way behind the convention center.

"Hobbes..."

"Yes, Fawkes."

"Why are we here?" Darien felt good and confused. He figured they'd drop the jump drive off at the Agency for Drake to play with and then head out to Leavitt to give the blow dart bit to the Keeper to run tests on. And then... then he'd spend some time with a hopefully conscious and healing Alyx.

"What? You don't like the view or something?" Hobbes snarked, as he climbed out of the van. He walked around the front to Darien side, opened the door, and grabbed the bag of food from the floorboard. "Out."

Darien unbuckled and complied, feeling somewhat bemused. "Hobbes..."

His partner held up a hand for silence as they walked over towards some permanent picnic tables under the trees. He set the bags down and began unpacking the repast. "I don't want to take a chance the van is bugged," he finally explained.

"Oh," Darien muttered, wondering why he hadn't thought of that. "You really think they'd do that?"

Hobbes shrugged. "I would. I'll go over the van before we leave just in case." He placed the various containers on the table after a quick glance into each. There was salad and garlic bread, the ravioli, and the wine, of course, which Darien realized they couldn't open until Hobbes pulled out his knife, stabbed it into the cork and wiggled it out. He gave it a sniff and actually smiled for an instant. He divvied up the food, pushing the real silverware provided at Darien along with the cloth napkins. Then Hobbes poured a generous amount of wine into the glasses, handing one to Darien before downing half of his own in one long swallow.

"Bobby, I'm not really hungry right now." True enough after what he had just seen in that building.

"Eat anyway. You need your strength." Hobbes dug into the salad, eating methodically, in between gulps of wine. At that rate they'd be going nowhere for a while.

"Bobby..."

"Fawkes," Hobbes sighed, setting his fork down and rubbing his face in his hands. "You got angry enough to go see-through without planning it, there's no way I'm letting you anywhere near the kid until you get some sort of control back. So eat, drink some of this very fine wine, and let the alcohol wash away what you saw."

"_That_ will never happen," Darien stated flatly. "I'm pretty fucking sure those images are burned into my brain permanently." He violently stabbed a cucumber with his fork and shoved it into his mouth. He chewed, aware on some level that the dressing on the salad was exquisite, but the bitter burn of anger churning in his gut left everything as tasteless as sawdust. He ate a few more bites in silence then grabbed the glass of wine, gulping it down quickly. "It was fucking blast zone in there, Hobbes. What they did to her... What she did to get away..." He shook his head wishing the wine were something much stronger. "No wonder she doesn't remember. I certainly don't want to and all I got to see was the aftermath."

"Which is why we're here instead of Leavitt," Bobby pointed out, gesturing with his fork, before stabbing a ravioli. "At this point _I_ don't dare go near the kid, she's just as likely to pick it up from me." He poured more wine into his glass. "She did what she needed to do, I believe that, but seeing the results..." He shook his head. "I know the kid is dangerous, we taught her to be, I just... I never thought I'd be afraid of her."

Darien didn't know what to say. Bobby had always had an issues with some of Alyx's abilities, especially her telepathy/empathy, what with his "Big Brother is watching" issues, but once she had firm control he'd never worried about her, had been unfailingly impressed by her self-control and ability to use just the right amount of force to get the job done. She only killed if absolutely necessary, but when it was necessary never hesitated to do so. There had been trust issues in the past, Bobby trusting in her abilities far more than the woman in charge of them, which had admittedly been deserved at times, but these days... Bobby would take a bullet for her should it be needed and Alyx would return the favor without hesitation. So, for Bobby Hobbes to say he was _afraid_ of Alyx the world must have truly tilted upon its axis.

"Me either," Darien said at a hoarse whisper. It was difficult thing to admit, to being afraid of the woman you loved. Nothing he'd ever experienced with her could have prepared him for the sheer destructiveness of what he'd seen. He could easily find a dozen justifications for what she'd done, but all of them would seem hollow, excuses for not wanting to admit to the reality: she hadn't just freed herself, but enacted an immediate and deadly vengeance upon the perpetrators, one so vicious that she'd blocked the act from her mind.

"What the hell do I do now, Hobbes? I can't... unsee that." He waved a hand around vaguely, wishing the alcohol would kick in and put that lovely coating of blur on reality.

"You bury it, Fawkes. Bury it deep and never let it see the light of day when you're near her," Hobbes told him frankly, making it clear that's how he planned to handle this.

Darien poured more of the wine, filling his glass, which he then promptly made a valiant effort to drain. He didn't quite manage it, leaving two fingers worth behind. "It's more than that. I know I need to forget, least when around Alyx right now, but I also want to understand. I mean, I know she's got a temper, but she's also one of the least violent people I've ever met, and considering the hell her life has been that's amazing. She can and has taken fucking huge amounts of abuse without batting an eye." He rubbed the back of his neck in consternation. "What could they have possibly done to push her to do _that_?"

"Now, that, is an excellent question, my friend. I'm thinking that this wasn't random," Bobby said, filling his glass with the very last of the wine.

"Duh."

Hobbes waved a hand. "Hear me out. Rape is damn personal, for the kid doubly so. Whoever set this up knew this would be a trigger for her, and used it for that reason."

"Rape is about control, Hobbes, everyone knows that," Darien pointed out, grabbing a piece of garlic bread and taking a huge bite of it. Now that the wine had dulled the angry edges his hunger had come storming back, and with the unplanned Quicksilver use, he needed food and badly, his stomach nothing but an aching void.

"Usually," Hobbes countered. "The kid's reactions aren't the norm, even the Keep has said so. No, this wasn't about control."

Around a mouthful of garlic bread Darien asked, "Then what was it about?"

Hobbes snorted. "Now if I knew that, we'd be halfway to solving this case."

"And instead we're the same place as before: nowhere." Darien closed his eyes for a long moment, wondering how many snipe hunts it would take before something broke. "I s'pose we could head back and check out Mom's..."

Hobbes shook his head. "I think we'll have more luck with this." He pulled the jump drive from his pocket.

"How? You heard 'em, someone hacked the signal."

"Yup, but I'm betting he gave us the digital files, not just a copy of the video. I'm betting this has _all_ the data, which would include the frequency they use to run the system." He set the jump drive on the table, the small red rectangle suddenly far more important than its tiny size would suggest.

It took Darien a second to catch on. "Wait, you saying we could find and trace the signal the hacker used? "

Hobbes glanced at his watch. "Not bad, took you half the time I expected. Hanging out with the kid has been good for your geek-fu."

Darien actually laughed aloud. "That she has, my friend." He sobered after a moment. "We need to sic Drake on them."

Hobbes nodded in agreement. "Kid would be better, but I doubt the Keep will let her work... Scratch that, no way the Keep would want her to see what's on this. Not yet, anyway."

"No shit. Drake'll get the job done. Even Alyx thinks he's good at his job, just not in her league."

"Ain't no one in the kid's league," Hobbes pointed out, poking a tomato with his fork. "You better?" He asked after a few minutes of companionable silence and eating.

"Yeah," Darien answered, kind of surprised to discover it was true. "I... this is just one of my things."

"I know, Fawkes, but you gotta rein it in for now," Hobbes admonished, if gently. "If we get the opportunity, I might join you in some of that medieval vengeance I know you're contemplating, but it's gonna depend on where the trail leads. If it ends up being Chrysalis or Changeling we'll have to rethink our tactics. No way the two of us are gonna go tilting at windmills."

Darien snorted in amusement. "If it's them, we're fucked. I just can't see them using this kind of tactic."

Bobby raised his eyebrows.

"All right, so I can't see Chrysalis using this kind of tactic. Changeling, especially if they hired some creepy Jess clone, might, but this was kinda overkill, even for them," Darien corrected, the wine finally relaxing him enough to discuss this without wanting to throttle someone _right now_.

"Could we be off on the wrong track? Kid's pissed off more than a few people over the years, probably more than we know about with her loan jobs." Hobbes drummed his fingers on the table. "Lawson or that CIA mook, James, both a'them took her trouncing personally and had full access to her files. Connecting some of those dots after the fact wouldn't have been too hard. Those two have dirt on enough people to blackmail the info if they really wanted it."

Darien dropped his head, blowing out the breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding thanks to Bobby's pronouncement. "You just upped the suspect list exponentially, Hobbes."

"Sorry, but we gotta start thinking outside the box. Assuming the kid was the sole target..." he paused, thinking. "Or maybe Carmen is on the right track. Maybe the kid was the target but the message was for you. How many want _both_ of you out of commission?"

Darien actually brightened a bit at that simply because that list would be far shorter, than a list of those who'd like to see Alyx out of the game. "Fewer, but not exactly a short list. I guess it would depend on the message." He pondered for a few minutes then shook his head as he answered, "Too many variables, and too much wine." He laughed softly, Bobby joining in after a moment. The guilt hit then, if softly; the blow a pillow instead of a cinder block. How could he be laughing, enjoying this bright afternoon while Alyx lay battered and broken in the hospital?

"Fawkes, stop with the moping. The kid wouldn't begrudge you a few stinkin' moments of pleasure, especially now." Bobby's tone was direct and forceful. "Focus on the work. Forget revenge, forget hunting the son of a bitch down, do the job and nothin' else."

"Hobbes, I can't-"

Bobby cut him off with the flat of his hand slapping the table top, making everything jump with the force of the blow. "Damn it, Fawkes, for once listen to me." He sucked in a deep breath and blew it out slowly. "I understand, really I do. If it had been Claire..." his voice cracked on the Keeper's name, emotions boiling over as he obviously put himself in Darien's place. "This is your out, my friend. If you can't focus on the job, if taking care of the kid is more important to you... I'll understand. No lectures, no arguments, but if you back out, you're out for the duration."

Since Darien had already considered this, he took Hobbes' words to heart. He had to make this choice, had to pick one or the other to focus on, 'cause splitting his attention was tearing him apart. He lacked that perspective that Hobbes and other agents had. Darien _couldn't_ easily disassociate his feelings from the job, especially when the job involved Alyx. That brought him up short. He had managed before when the job turned out to involve Alyx, even when it involved her being injured; like when Changeling had drugged her and gone after everyone else to get her to bolt from the Agency. He'd been worried as hell, but kept it together and worked the job without the emotional quicksand he found himself mired in this time. With that realization, he tried something. Closing his eyes he focused inward, clearing his mind, he then went through a basic grounding routine. The emotional storm eased immediately so he took it one step further and built a wall in his mind directed specifically at Alyx's unconscious influence. Instantly, he felt a difference. Oh, he was most certainly still upset and in need of finding those who did it, but the overriding anger that he'd thought was all his faded to something more like he would expect. He made some slight adjustments, not wanting to cut her off completely, as it would freak her out for him to suddenly cut off his connection with her, at least until he could talk to her about the situation. With a sigh, he opened his eyes to meet his partner's concerned gaze.

"Fawkes?" Hobbes questioned, truly sounding worried.

"Bleed over from Alyx," Darien explained.

"Ah," Hobbes said, brows knitting together as he tried to figure out exactly what that statement meant. "Oh, you were getting the kid's emotions as well as yours. Shit, no wonder you've been such a barrel of laughs."

"Cute, Hobbes, real cute." He picked up his fork, intending to finish the quite fine meal now that he wasn't being manipulated emotionally. "I'm in for the duration."

"Good. I have a feeling this trail on this one is gonna be as twisted as the mind that came up with it." Hobbes picked up the jump drive and tucked it back into his pocket, then also returned to his food. "This is why I don't fish off the company pier," he stated wryly. "I'm just damn glad Claire don't go out into the field much, makes her less of a target in some ways."

"But only in some ways. There's a reason she stays locked up in a lab ninety percent of the time. Only way to keep her even vaguely safe." Darien knew exactly how true that was, and how true it wasn't. Just a few months back the Keep and Lab Two had been severely damaged by concussion explosions. Claire had been in Lab Two just moments before the bomb had gone off and if not for the intervention of Alyx, would have died. "Hell, Bobby, as far as the world knows Claire is the one and only go to gal for detailed info on Quicksilver, that there paints one giant target on her back."

"That it does, but so far we've kept her safe. I'd like to continue to keep it that way." There was an odd mix of concern and promise in Bobby's voice. He planned to prevent anything from getting to his girl. Too bad, that would probably be impossible if push came to shove. If the bad guys really, _really_ wanted to get to Claire, they would. It was just the nature of the beast.

"Bobby, if we really want to keep our girls safe we need to get out of this biz," Darien told him with only a touch of facetiousness in his tone. If he could walk away without losing all his friends, he'd do so, but after weeks of the same dream, one where he _had_ walked away, ending up essentially all alone, he'd said no to his one and only chance to leave. He had chosen to stay at the Agency with the gland, for now anyway. Things could change in a heartbeat. The future that particular dream had showed had been washed away with his decision. There were times he'd regretted it, wondered if things in the here and now would have been better for his friends had he walked away. His decision had been somewhat selfish, wanting to save Alyx from some potential future danger, without having a clue about all those possible ones in the interim. Would this latest fiasco never have happened had he walked away? Would he have saved her all the heartache and pain he knew to be coming as she healed if he had said yes to the gland removal?

"And that ain't gonna happen any time in the near future. Unless you've changed your mind about having your better half removed?" Bobby sounded almost as disappointed as he looked, as if he really thought Darien was going to just blow this pop stand after all this time.

Darien shook his head, swallowed the mouthful of ravioli, then answered. "Not yet. Still have things I want to accomplish."

"Plus you don't want to walk away from Alyx," Hobbes stated, making it obvious he knew it was the truth.

"A'course not, I'm getting laid. What idiot would walk away from that?"

Hobbes snorted into his wine, almost performing a classic spit-take. Once he managed to swallow the mouthful of red, glaring at Darien all the while, he wagged a finger. "You ain't fooling no one there, pal. You've been crazy about her since day one."

Darien ducked his head, feeling heat rise to his cheeks. Bobby had no idea, he'd met Alyx two days _after_ Darien had, and by that point, he'd already been lost. He was damn glad she turned out to be a full adult and not the teenager he'd thought she was or he'd've had some real problems. Though, god knows, with how hard he'd fallen he might very well have waited, if not exactly patiently, for her to come of age.

"Now, the kid, on the other hand took her time deciding about you." Hobbes grinned and Darien could only hope his friend was teasing, no matter how much truth there was to the statement. Alyx had taken her time, but she'd been just as lost as he at that first meeting, or so she'd claimed on a several occasions, which only made certain personal issues more difficult to deal with.

"Hobbes, you ever not tell someone you loved them?"

Hobbes blinked. "Uh, lots of people, why?"

Darien rubbed the back of his neck for a moment, trying to figure out how to better phrase the question. "You and Claire, you tell each other, right?"

Hobbes coughed into his hand, face tingeing pink. "Actually, that hasn't come up yet."

Darien's eyebrows rose on his forehead in surprise. "You're kidding, right? Mr. Romance hasn't told his girl he loves her? You feeling all right there, my friend?'

"Fawkes," Bobby growled, though there wasn't any real anger in his body language. "It is private." His prevarication notwithstanding he seemed to catch on to where Darien was going with the conversation. "I take it you and the kid ain't said the words either?"

Darien ducked his head for a moment, now kind of wishing he hadn't started this conversation, but who else could he talk to about this? "I have, a few times, usually when Coocoo for Cocoa Puffs."

Hobbes shook his head sadly. "I wouldn't believe you either when flying the red-eye. What about the kid? She ever say the words?"

"Not once," Darien told him flatly. "Don't get me wrong, I know she cares, know she needs me, but sometimes..."

"Sometimes what?"

"Sometimes I wonder if she loves me." Darien found it difficult to meet Bobby's eyes, but did so, feeling oddly stupid for admitting his fears out loud.

"Huh."

Darien pouted. "That's it? 'Huh'?" He'd expected a lot more, even if it was his friend informing him his fears were dead on and that Alyx probably did not care for him the way he did for her.

"What did you expect, Fawkes? Reassurances that it's true love everlasting between the two of you?" Bobby grinned, clearly amused. "I can't do that, and wouldn't anyway. Not my place. I will say this: the kid does care for you, maybe more than she wants to admit and I don't see her looking anywhere else for a... partner."

The tightness in Darien's chest eased only slightly at the response. "But? I hear that but in your voice."

"Don't you think this is question you should be asking her?"

"How can I ask her that without admitting that I do, and then if she doesn't..." Darien shook his head. "I don't want to deal with that."

"Gonna have to sometime, else it'll just keep eating at you." Bobby stabbed a finger in Darien's direction. "And you know it."

"Crap," Darien muttered, knowing very well it was true. Luckily, he wouldn't have to deal with it today. Alyx was in no condition for a round of Twenty Questions: The Relationship Edition. "Why couldn't I just find a nice, normal girl to settle down with?" he mused aloud.

Bobby burst out in laughter. " 'Cause you'd be bored in no time flat, my friend. You like the kid 'cause she's a challenge all the way 'round, exactly what your above-average needs."

Hard to deny the truth of that. He would tire of a piece of fluff, no matter how beautiful, quickly and then move on to another. Sex was one thing, pieces of fluff were perfect for that, but he liked the brains, maybe more than the beauty. That had always been true if he really thought about it. Yeah, he'd dated a lot in high school, but the long term relationships were always with the smart ones, they were just a hell of a lot more interesting. Alyx, though, she had one thing those others didn't: no expectations. And he didn't mean relationship-wise. A lot of his other girlfriends no matter how serious or not all had those little things they tried to change about him, wanting him to conform to some nebulous standard that lay locked in their heads. Alyx didn't, not really, she expected him to be Darien Fawkes no more no less, foibles and all. She didn't try to talk him out of his forays into thieving, offered advice or outright helped instead. No subtle asides to change his clothes or hairstyle. No admonishments for his penchant to sleep in late on those rare occasions such an opportunity arose. Not that she didn't occasionally let fly with a well-deserved upbraiding when it was warranted, but those often happened when her temper had frayed beyond easy repair.

He had to wonder if he'd done the same. Yes, he liked her just the way she was, but... and there was the rub, a big ol' but that meant he probably had, whether subtly or directly. Some of the changes he longed for were obvious: moving in together for example. He wanted that like crazy, wanted to know when he came home after a long day that she, provided she was in town of course, would be there waiting for him at _their_ place in _their_ bed. He understood and even agreed with her reasons against, but that didn't mean he didn't want it anymore. In fact, being told _no_ often made him want it even more. Yes, sometimes he had all the maturity of a petulant six-year-old. He'd grown though. Learned when and when not to push, when to let things be and for her to come to him about something in particular. She had her issues, just as he did, but she was far more closemouthed about her past and how it affected her present. She excelled at separating the different parts of her life and never allowing the twain to meet. For certain portions, it was out of necessity, her kids being a prime example. Her interaction with them minimal and only through reports sent to her via her brother and their now guardian.

Darien had pieces of her, and only pieces. Maybe she didn't find him deserving of the whole of her. Maybe he was just another carefully delineated part, kept dutifully separate, forgotten about when out of direct contact.

He brushed that thought away as foolish. Those journals she'd been filing up, every word to and for him. He was never far from her thoughts. But it was those same journals that had made him realize there might be a problem with their relationship as they were as sadly lacking that one ever important four letter word, not written or even hinted at anywhere in any of the many pages. Knowing how she felt, literally, when she unavoidably shared her emotions with him still did little to ease the concern.

"You okay, Fawkes?" Hobbes asked sounding worried.

Darien sighed. "Good 'nuff. We about ready to hit the road?"

Hobbes glanced at his watch. "Should be. I'll check the van for bugs if you take care of this." He waved at the assorted take out containers littering the table.

"Done," Darien agreed. "I'll hang onto the real stuff, we can clean it and keep it in the van for stakeouts."

"Good idea, my friend. Give me fifteen and we'll be ready to rock'n roll." Hobbes got to his feet and made his way over to the van, the headlights blinking as he unlocked it with the key ring.

Darien set aside the napkins and silverware, then stacked the various containers for easier transport to the nearest trash can. As he made several trips - there had been a ton of food - he pondered their next move. Get Drake the security data, head back to Cabrillo to pick up the security vids and detailed staff info and research them, hit Mom's to check out the local color and, if possible talk to the survivors of Alyx's instant karma. Oh, and somewhere in there chat to the responding officers and EMTs. Too much for just two agents, they needed help on this. Whether the bossman would agree was another question entirely. Probably not, which meant dividing the limited resources they had and hit the important points first. First on his list was seeing Alyx and getting some real sleep. Maybe he could talk Claire into setting up a cot in the room? Then again, maybe he should head home and sleep in his own bed. Alyx wouldn't want him to put himself out more than necessary, he knew that and she would heal whether he was there or not.

His final trip completed, he grabbed the napkin wrapped silverware and headed for the van. Hobbes had this mirror on a stick combo and was scanning the underside of the van with it, looking for who knew what. "You looking for bugs or bombs?"

"Both," Hobbes answered honestly. "With the mob it could go either way. Or both ways, really."

"I doubt Lenny would bother, Hobbes," Darien pointed out as he reached in the open door to toss the goods into a basket affixed to the desk that ran along one side of the rear cargo area. "Not at the risk of pissing off Alyx."

Hobbes chuckled ruefully. "You may have a point." He collapsed the pole and tossed it into the back of the van, then slid the door shut. "Didn't find anything anyway. You ready to roll?"

"That I am. Agency then Leavitt?" Darien suggested as he opened the passenger door and slid in.

"Agency, shower, then Leavitt, I'm thinking. For both of us," Hobbes said once in the driver's seat. "We'll see how things are then decide our next move. We've got about five different directions we can go in, we need to pick the best one."

Darien chuckled as the van roared to life and backed out of the parking spot.

"What's so funny?"

"I was just thinking the same thing is all. Gang angle might be the best, we can send Franklin to pick up the stuff from Cabrillo." Darien had no clue if Hobbes would go for that, but it seemed to make sense. Yeah, they would have to follow-up in person at the hospital, but getting the info could be done by anyone, why should they waste their very valuable time. Yes, to a degree Darien considered himself and Hobbes better than the rest of the normal human agents on staff. He might not be as experienced in all things spook, but he still had the gland, that kinda put him on a different playing field entirely and because Hobbes was his partner, he got dragged along for the ride will he or nil he. Though Darien was pretty certain Hobbes was having one grand ol' time on this particular, if bumpy at times, ride.

"Good plan. It's been a long day and we both need to recharge." Hobbes merged with the late afternoon traffic, heading into the heart of downtown and the Agency over on G Street.


	9. Chapter 9

Anyone who thought that a good night's sleep to be the cure-all for every ill hadn't had that sleep on a thin mattress in a hospital room. Normally Darien could sleep pretty much anywhere without a problem, but the assorted beeps and bleeps of the various monitors, coupled with a nurse stopping in every thirty minutes to make sure Alyx hadn't decided to drop dead without the assorted monitors wailing their sirens signaling something wrong, prevented him from doing more than dozing restlessly. Alyx slept the sleep of the heavily drugged, but her night also failed to be restful as she spent her slumber plagued with dreams that bled over to Darien, even with the carefully crafted wall in place in his mind. Sadly, though pretty good, his skills were still not as refined as he would like and his efforts at blocking her would fade when unconscious, allowing that bleed over that had so affected his emotional state during the day.

Alyx had warned him time and time again that maintaining shields involved actual work, and took constant effort, especially when sleeping. All this meant that his six hours weren't exactly as restorative as he had hoped. No wonder it sometimes took her a while to actually wake up in the morning, given she often slept no more than five hours a night, usually less in fact. She averaged four, but on the flip side, he'd seen her go four days straight with no sleep at all and with only minimal loss of ability. Granted once done she crashed and crashed hard, but her battery recharged quickly thanks to her ability to draw off the energy around her.

In other words, she cheated.

Now to be fair she would and had on occasion shared that ability with him, giving him a temporary power boost when the situation had become dire, but it could be risky what with the potential of frying his synapses as she performed the stunt. And the crash afterwards... Chugging Red Bulls had nothing on this metabolic crash. The last time he'd slept twelve hours straight to make up for the abuse of putting his body through the wringer. Oh, he'd felt great while on the power high, but since his body had not been genetically adapted for it, when it ended he felt like he'd been run over by a train, with the cow-catcher on. And it could be addictive if used too often, his body slowly adjusting to and ultimately needing the extra energy, going into withdrawal when it hadn't been received. Not that that particular scenario had happened, at least not with the power boosts. With the mental connection between him and Alyx... oh yeah. And though both Alyx and Claire were aware of the problem, they'd yet to discover a resolution, not one beyond him blocking Alyx completely and continuously, something he had become unwilling to do. He liked having her presence in the back of his mind, liked knowing she would always be there and aware of him on some level.

Which is why her traveling sucked so much. About three days away he'd hit what Hobbes now called his PKS (post kid syndrome), as it took that long for the connection to fade at Darien's end. He would then proceed to turn into a bear woken mid-hibernation and be absolutely miserable until he adjusted to the lack of the link, which took about a day. It had been Claire who realized what had been going on, keeping meticulous records for several months until she could see the pattern. Sadly, there had been nothing Alyx could do, as her link to him was entirely unconscious and beyond her direct control. She had tried and failed to sever the connection long before they'd become involved and, now that they were, the connection had only become stronger. The only real option to sever it, and at his end only, would be to go their separate ways permanently.

Not an option as far as Darien was concerned.

Rolling over he glanced at his watch, noting the time of a way too early seven fifteen in the morning. He debated the merits of pulling the pillow over his head and making a valiant effort at returning to sleep when the door swung open, admitting a completely conscious Bobby Hobbes and Claire Keeply along with the mouthwatering aroma of coffee. _Good _coffee. Yawning, he forced himself upright just in time to have a venti of his favorite dark roast placed in his hand. He breathed the scent in deeply before taking a sip of the brew. "Thanks," he mumbled, still not even close to being awake.

"Hope there's one for me," a hoarse voice stated from nearby.

"Of course, kid. With your Doc's permission no less," Hobbes answered as he handed over the tall to Alyx. "Though she did insist it be a small."

"So long as it's not decaf." Alyx took the cup with both hands, her right not able to grasp the cup on it's own with the cast. She took a sip and sighed. "Thanks, Bobby."

"Welcome, kid." Bobby turned about and gave his partner the early morning version of the evil eye. "You look like crap, Fawkes, did you get _any_ sleep?"

"Yep," Darien assured him, "in little thirty minute bits."

Claire shook her head, quite plainly trying not to laugh. "I did warn you."

"And I seem to vaguely recall telling you to go home," Alyx added. "But thank you for staying." She shakily set the coffee down on the table next to the bed. "Keep, I feel... weird."

Claire moved to her side. "Weird how?"

Darien stayed in place, trying to ignore the sudden flare of worry in his gut. Alyx appeared to be fine, better than yesterday in some ways, though the bruising had hit its peak and looked horrible, but that could only be a good sign, meaning her abilities were aiding the healing process like always. He sipped his coffee, watching the proceedings carefully, looking for any sign that something was amiss.

"If I knew that I wouldn't have used the word 'weird'," she pointed out, rubbing the side of her face with her left hand. She winced as she encountered the bruise. "Ow. I take it I have a black eye?"

Claire glanced over at Darien, who had gone still at the comment. This didn't mean anything, really. She already had some known memory loss thanks to the blow to her head, this may be nothing more than an extension of that. Yet, he knew it had nothing to do with that; somehow knew with a certainty that frightened him that this was different and that it would be anything but good.

"Yeah, sweets, among other things," he told her, doing his damnedest to keep his voice steady and not let any of the frightening emotions leak into his voice.

"Other things?" she questioned, appearing to be honestly confused. "This is Leavitt, right?"

"Yeah, kid. Brought you here late yesterday," Bobby answered. "You don't remember?"

She shook her head. "I... maybe?" She closed her eyes tipping her head slightly as she searched for the memories. Eventually her eyes opened, fright buried deep within them. "Should I remember?"

Claire set a hand on Alyx's shoulder, her tone soothing. "Not necessarily. You have a concussion and are on the new pain medication we designed. It may be having side-effects we didn't foresee."

Alyx pinched the bridge of her nose carefully, as if expecting to discover it broken as well. "New pain med... What? Oh, the metabolic based one? I thought we were going to hold off on that until I'd adapted to the current one?"

The looks that everyone exchanged apparently told her all she needed to know. "I take it that already happened?"

Claire nodded. "Yesterday, after surgery."

Alyx just stared at her as if the Keeper had gone insane. "Why can't I remember any of this?"

"I don't know," Claire stated truthfully. "I already have the MRI scheduled, we'll know more after that."

"I hate MRI's," Alyx grumbled, reaching out with unsteady hands to retrieve the coffee.

"Kid, I'm thinking this time it's necessary." Bobby hid the worry in his voice well, but Darien could spot it at ten paces. His partner liked this turn of events no more than he did. Overnight something had taken a turn for the worse and it had happened while he lay here supposedly protecting her.

"Claire, you get any of those test results back?" Darien asked, trying to make the question seem to be of little importance.

Claire turned slightly to look at him. "Not yet, but I should probably see what's holding up the lab when I'm done here."

"Tests? On what?" Alyx asked in pure curiosity.

"Oh, nothing you need to concern yourself with right now," Claire prevaricated like an expert, grabbing up the file and beginning to diligently make notes, or at least pretending to. "Now, where does it hurt?"

Alyx muttered something unfit for polite company, which thankfully this was not. "Where don't I? And why in heaven's name am I wearing a pressure bandage..." Her question trailed off, her focus suddenly turning inward. "Ribs? Cracked ribs?"

"Yeah," Darien answered. He glanced over at Claire who had pulled out a light pen and flashed it in Alyx's eyes. "Well, Keep?"

"Pupil response is slow, which is not normal for you even with a concussion," she informed the room.

"Like she ever even visits normal these days," Bobby snarked, shooting for humor and missing only by a hair's breath.

"Love you too, Bobby," Alyx returned with as much saccharine sweetness as she could manage to pour into her voice, the smile obviously and hopefully intentionally forced. The bruises pretty much ruined the effect.

Claire shot a look at Bobby that resembled a glare, but lacking that hint of irritation that would normally be there. Darien found the look worrisome more than anything. Claire really didn't care for Alyx's sudden loss of memory. Not that he liked it any better, but he kept his concern under tight control, no need to upset Alyx any more than necessary. Besides, it might very well turn out to be nothing, side effects of the new medication just as Claire had suggested. He continued to drink his coffee, watching as Claire ran through the usual routine and, though Alyx still said she felt "off," Claire could find nothing truly amiss.

"Hungry?" Claire asked when the exam had been completed.

"Starved," Alyx answered. "Any chance I could get a bagel?"

Claire smiled. "I'm sure we could arrange something along those lines."

"Oh, think I could get some of my clothes. I ain't walking around this place in this gown." Alyx didn't bother to plead, though Darien could tell she really wanted to, and he could sympathize. Even for routine crap in the Keep Claire would make him wear those ghastly gowns. Given what Alyx had been through a little normalcy would come as a welcome relief.

Claire thought about it for a few moments then nodded. "Agreed, but your... what is it you call it? Schlep wear?"

Bobby snorted in amusement. "Kid, you and your Yiddishisms. Schlep is correct, Keepy. Sweats and loose tees and such, yes?"

"Exactly." She turned to Darien. "Can I assume you will assist?"

"Yep." He met Alyx's eyes. "Bring a bag by around lunch?"

She sighed overdramatically. "I suppose I can suffer until then."

"Might as well, you'd just have to change for the MRI anyway," Claire pointed out, receiving another sigh for her trouble. "I'll have breakfast sent in straight away."

Darien's stomach rumbled in response and everyone looked at him. He ducked his head. "Hey, I'm hungry too."

Alyx chuckled softly then followed it up with a grimace of pain. "Oy, that hurts." She sucked in a breath and blew it out slowly until the pain had passed. "How did your meeting with Lenny go?"

Bobby answered, face, posture, and tone carefully controlled. "Just fine, kid. He gave us plenty of info." He turned to Darien. "Speaking of which, Drake said he found something interesting on that recording."

Darien's ears perked up at that. "Oh really? So guess we're heading to the office first."

"The sooner the better, my friend," Bobby responded, gesturing at the door with his coffee cup.

Darien took his turn with a sigh. He really wanted to stay here, with Alyx, but he'd told Bobby he'd work the case, which meant trusting her safety to others. Never an easy thing to do and harder this time with her injured so badly. He stood, half empty cup in one hand, and walked over to the bed. He cupped her cheek with his left hand, getting a surge of emotion from her. She didn't want him to leave, didn't feel safe without him nearby, felt confused and scared by the memory lapses and her weakness. Her ability to protect herself at the moment all but nonexistent.

He leaned down and kissed her tenderly. "You'll be fine, promise." A word he used very rarely since he knew exactly how seriously she took it. For Alyx breaking a promise could never be an option.

She shivered, a surge of dismay washing over him instead of the confidence he'd expected. "Don't make promises you can't keep," she whispered, and he could only wonder what knowledge she possessed this time.

"Too late, sweets. Guess I have no choice now," he told her, keeping his voice just as soft as she had. Then louder as he pulled away, "I'll be back for lunch. With clothes."

She gave him a weak smile, worry and fear buried in her eyes. "I'll be here. Bored to tears."

Claire shooed Darien away. "I doubt that. I'm sure I can find something for you to do." She tucked the covers in about Alyx. "I need to talk to the boys for a few minutes and order you breakfast. You may get up, just be careful to not tangle the lines."

"Yes, Keep." Alyx didn't quite pout, but it was a near thing. She wanted to be up and moving, not practically tied to a hospital bed with tubes and wires. A good sign, in Darien's opinion; if Alyx wanted up and about she couldn't be hurt all that bad.

"You take it easy, kid, you hear me?" Bobby ordered gruffly, showing he cared the only way he knew how: by giving orders.

She snapped a salute with her left hand and gave a brisk, "Aye, aye, Captain," that made Hobbes chuckle.

Claire escorted them from the room and down the hall a ways.

"What's up, Keep?" Darien asked, having the sinking feeling that whatever Claire would tell them would be far from good news.

"Some of the tests have come back..."

"You lied, Keep? I'm shocked," Bobby stated in mock horror, complete with hand clutching at his chest in fake fear.

"You," she batted at him with a grin, which turned serious after a moment. "I didn't lie. Not all the results are back, just the ones I told them to rush." She added in a tiny flounce to emphasize her point, making Darien's lip twitch as he made every effort not to laugh. Though thinking about it, maybe he should laugh now, he had the sinking feeling he wouldn't want to after she made her pronouncement.

"You just didn't tell the whole truth," Darien pointed out then turned to Hobbes, "How come she gets to do that and I don't?"

Bobby shook his head in amusement. "It's not that you don't get to Fawkes, we just assume you're lying all the time."

Claire grinned and Darien decided that instead of being offended, which he really wasn't, to join in on the valiant effort to lighten the building tension. "All right, enough picking on the receptacle; what do you know?"

"Not much, sadly. The chemical cocktail from that... dart is impressive to say the least. The only item I've positively identified is drug similar to one we've designed to disrupt Alyx's abilities. The dose would have been fairly small and worn off quickly even with the sliver imbedded in her side," she told them quickly, hands clasped tightly before her.

"Which confirms our suspicions that whoever set her up knew what she could do," Hobbes said, rubbing the top of his head.

"So it would appear," Claire agreed. "I'm going to continue working on the chemical breakdown, but it may be some time before I have a definitive answer. It would appear several different drugs were piggybacked together. God knows what results the drug interactions could have caused." She did not look happy about that fact, not at all.

"What about her memory loss?" Darien asked. The concern he felt refused to remain hidden, at least not when out of sight of Alyx. He wanted to know as much as he could about this particular problem, anyway, since it would not greatly impact Alyx - she already knew she had memory loss.

Claire shook her pretty blonde head. "That I am unsure about. The MRI will hopefully tell me something. As I said, it may be nothing more than an unexpected side-effect of the new painkiller since it only appears to be affecting her short term memory."

"But it could be something else," Bobby pointed out, his tone bleak.

Claire turned to face him. "Yes, it could, but until I am able to run some tests I have no way of knowing and I won't even hazard a guess. Let me complete my diagnostics and as soon as I know anything, you will. All right?"

Darien couldn't exactly argue the point and he certainly did her little good other than support for Alyx, which she really didn't require. Yes, for personal reasons she might want him at her side as much as he wanted to be there, but in truth she would heal or not without him. He would be of far more use out in the field, tracking out the bad guy du jour, or du semaine as the case may be. Damn it, he needed to focus, to stop treading over the same mental pathways again and again. This running in circles thing just wouldn't cut it. Hobbes had been right, he had to make a choice, a conscious choice and it needed to be the job. Who knew it would be so damn hard when the job involved someone you loved.

"Works," Darien said with a nod. The words true enough. Hell, Claire didn't have to share anything with them, and probably only offered to prevent the thousand other questions they would be certain to ask. He turned to Hobbes. "Drake expecting us?"

Hobbes nodded. "The 'Fish too. Wants an update on the sitch."

"Wants us to tell him we have nothing?" Darien grumbled, knowing the truth of that statement.

"More than you think, Fawkes," Hobbes admonished. "We may have needed to crash, but others have been working their tails off. Boss man don't like it when one of his agents is targeted."

"Well I should hope not," Claire stated, almost sounding affronted.

"Keepy, you know what I mean." Hobbes sidled closer to Claire, clearly invading her personal space, until her look softened.

"Yes, I do know what you mean. This time he cares, next time he may not." She reined in her temper, but even Darien could tell the effort it took to not allow it to boil over. Claire took her job very seriously and had knocked heads with the Official more than once over his concern or lack thereof for his agents. She shook her head. "Go," she directed with a toss of her blonde head, "find who did this and keep them from doing it ever again."

Her odd phrasing seemed to hint at her knowing more than she'd told them so far, and though insanely curious, Darien held his tongue. Right now he didn't want to know, because he felt certain that it would be anything but good and the last thing he needed so early in the morning was yet more bad news concerning Alyx.

"We'll do our best, Keepy," Bobby told her, diving in for a quick kiss on her cheek, which caused her to smile.

"I'm holding you that. I'll see you both later." With that she turned and strode down the hall presumably to order breakfast for Alyx.

"You want to say goodbye to the kid?" Hobbes asked, and honestly not seeming worried about the extra time it would take.

Darien shook his head. "Nah, she'll be fine and the sooner we get started the sooner I get back with clothes for her. The last thing we need is for her to be cranky _and_ in pain. She'll make our lives miserable."

Bobby laughed in amusement. "You ain't kidding there, my friend." Turning he led the way through the maze of halls and outside where the van was parked; the short distance taking up with little more than the usual morning trivialities. Neither man wanting to delve too deep into the current events before they absolutely needed to.

They were trapped in downtown traffic, Darien's cup of coffee drained dry without quite giving him the level of consciousness he really needed, when Hobbes finally spoke up. "Green picked up the data from Cabrillo and it's being gone through by him and Alice. Two mooks have been assigned to the kid and the Keep at all times, just in case, and Drake arranged a meet with the first responders this afternoon. We're still waiting to hear on the status of the two survivors, but it's looking to be a couple of days before we'll be able to speak to them."

The update was given swiftly and efficiently, as if he expected Darien to react poorly. Yesterday he might have, today, he was okay. He could still feel that burning anger that wasn't his, but it had been dulled to little more than an echo. His own level of anger and need for vengeance was more than challenging enough for him to deal with; some of the dreams overnight had been his own and involved seriously damaging those who had hurt his girl. Given the comparatively cushy life he'd been granted through his aunt and uncle, he'd managed to grow up hard. Somehow finding the dark side of that sleepy little mountain town and allowing the pain and anger and unhappiness of losing his parents, coupled the disparate treatment of himself and his brother by his uncle to turn him down a darker path.

He was his father's son, that's for sure.

"You okay, Fawkes?"

Darien grunted and sat up a bit straighter. "Yeah, in need of another caffeine infusion is all... and some food."

Hobbes chuckled. "All right, we'll swing by Starbucks on the way in. You can get a Danish or something."

Darien tried to smother the yawn, but gave it up as a bad job quickly. He knew it would be a long day, with no chance of a nap, so he'd better just deal with it and keep going. Best way to do that involved fuel for his high performance engine. He glanced down at his wrist, noting the number of red segments - still at three - and then back out the window at the slow-moving morning traffic. Claire was busy enough without having to deal with him. At this point, the Quicksilver shouldn't be needed. Later... yeah. But until then he'd keep an eye on the monitor, keep Hobbesy in the loop and hope there'd be no need to spend a lot of time invisible, 'cause he had no idea if Claire even had a batch of counteragent brewing. There'd been no mission of any sort on the books for the next several days, so Claire wouldn't have even been thinking about it, given the time he could now go between shots. Maybe he should mention it to Kat, just in case? Who knew which way this job would turn next. Better to be a good boy scout like Hobbes and be prepared.

"Thanks, Bobby," Darien said softly, knowing he was kinda sucking at the whole conversation thing this morning.

"No prob, my friend." Bobby bobbed and weaved his way through the commuter crush with surprising ease. "Claire'll figure this thing out and the kid'll be fine."

Darien shook his head, the nagging worry that things were only going to go downhill from here surging to the forefront. "I hope so," he muttered softly. Not a commentary on the good Keeper's skills, but some instinctive _knowing_ that the situation was something other than what it appeared. If asked he wouldn't be able to explain it, but he knew it was true. And that terrified him.

"Fawkes..."

"Coffee, Hobbes, then we need to see what Drake found for us."

Bobby looked like he was going to argue, but instead nodded. "And then catch this son of a bitch."

Darien chuckled, though it had more than a touch of darkness to it. "You know it."

The green sign for the Starbucks appeared in the distance and Darien let the worry slide away in favor of a craving for a caramel macchiato.


End file.
